Second Chances and Silver Linings
by SelfProclaimedFangirlKate
Summary: COMPLETE. AU Chick lit. SQ Slowburn. Emma is a recent MFA graduate with dreams of writing a bestselling novel but stuck in a monotonous survival job selling textbooks. Her boss is a well put-together company VP with a successful husband and two perfect children. As Emma struggles to find her place in the world, she learns the perfect Regina is facing a similar challenge of her own.
1. Chapter 1: Part I

**A/N:** Surprise! New fic time. Instead of working on part of my dissertation proposal that I have to submit tomorrow, last night I decided to start writing a new SQ fic that's been plotting around my brain for a few months. I had planned to wait until I finished _Queen to Play_ and/or _A Montreal Excursion_ to start working on this, but you know, procrastination of real work got the best of me. Those fics will both be wrapping up soon, so I decided to go ahead and start playing with this idea. It will be an epic slow burn, so have patience :). This is also the first fic I've ever written in first person or in present tense (it's told from Emma's perspective), so it's a fun change and challenge for me. I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

I was thirteen when _Avenue Q_ opened on Broadway. It was the summer between seventh and eighth grade, and my parents had taken me to New York City for vacation. The show had just premiered and my poor parents hadn't done their research, so they assumed a show with puppets would be perfectly appropriate for a middle school teen girl. I will never forget looking over at my dad in the middle of the first act and seeing his fair complexion turn bright red in embarrassment as the puppets sang about masturbating to internet pornography. I would have been mortified, too, if I didn't find the entire situation hilarious. During intermission I had begged them to stay through the end of the performance, because despite its raunchy content, I was loving the show. I won the fight and we stayed until the end, and my parents even gave a standing ovation during the curtain call. But, we never spoke about the show again once we left the John Golden Theatre that evening.

The reason I mention this story, aside from it being one of the last vacations we ever had as a family, is because the plot is so fucking relatable. The show's opening song begins with the line "What do you do, with a B.A. in English?" and perhaps my wide-eyed big-dreamer teenage self should have listened to that lesson a little more closely, because not only did I, in my early adulthood naïveté, get a B.A. in English, but I then went on to get my MFA in creative writing. Because really, when you can't find a "real" job with an undergraduate English degree, why wouldn't you go back to school for two years of graduate school in the exact same field? Like I said — I was naïve and had big expectations for myself. All I needed was that piece of paper with those three letters to prove my legitimacy, and then I would be set.

I had really thought that after finishing my MFA at one of the best writing programs in the country I would be well on my way to writing the next Great American Novel, or if not that, then at a minimum I would get a multi-book deal for a YA fantasy series with vampires or fairytale heroes. At the very least, I thought I would get to work at the boutique literary agency where I had interned for six months after finishing my graduate degree. I had packed up my entire life from the house I shared with my roommates in Iowa City and moved into a charming and cozy studio apartment on the North side of Chicago, ready to take on the world.

The agency was everything I could have hoped for in terms of a "real" job, except for the fact that I wasn't being paid. The office was in a converted loft, and it was the kind of place where we would have all-office champagne celebrations after successfully landing a book deal for one of our clients, no matter the time of day. My second day there I remember my supervisor sending a cork torpedoing into the wall, narrowly missing my head, a little before 10 o'clock in the morning in celebration of snagging a major author she wanted to represent. Every day I learned something new, and I thrived. I learned how to talk to authors and publishers and how to quickly identify what could be a bestseller from what should go straight to the slush pile. I worked there 20 hours per week and paid my rent by teaching a GED prep course at a community college during the days when I wasn't working at the agency, bartending at night, and tutoring wealthy prep school kids on the weekends. It was grueling, but I made it work, and I wanted nothing more than to be part of the full-time team as my internship drew to a close. I had emailed my supervisor my updated resume two weeks before the end of my internship, and I had been so excited when Ingrid called me into her office the morning after I had sent it. I was quickly hit with the reality of the situation as soon as Ingrid began speaking: "I'm sorry, Emma, but we don't have any room for you. We don't have the money to take on any additional salaried staff at this time. You have been a wonderful asset to the group, and I wish we had something to offer you. I'm happy to be a reference as you apply for jobs."

So, the lofty dreams I had once held couldn't be farther from my actual reality. Instead of working at Fire and Ice Literary Agents LLC., I'm working at Enchanted Education, a midsize textbook publishing company in a sales position requiring me to work far too many hours for far too little pay. My "9-to-5" job is more accurately described as an "8:30-to-7". By the time I get home at night I'm too exhausted to work on my own writing, so more often than not I crash on my couch watching Netflix and drinking five-dollar wine from Trader Joe's (at least I've upgraded from "Three Buck Chuck"…I'll take any small adulting victory that I can). I'm still in my studio apartment in Lakeview, but I no longer find the miniscule size cute and cozy, but instead it's cramped and making me claustrophobic. While I at one time enjoyed being close to the excitement of Wrigley Field, now I can't stand the constant screaming of fans. Even worse are the drunk former frat bros who occupy every building within a square mile of my apartment and the accompanying puddles of vomit that often line the sidewalks on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday mornings. But, I can't afford to move to any place bigger or in a less obnoxious area, so this is home for the time being.

I know I should be lucky that I even have a full-time job with a salary and decent benefits. Some friends of mine from grad school are still waiting tables, nannying, or working retail jobs to pay their bills. I know I should feel grateful that I am at least working in a job somewhat related to my field, but I never wanted to work in sales. I loathe salespeople on principle, and now I'm one of them. Working for a textbook publisher might not be so bad if I were proofreading copy or selecting content for the books, but instead I spend my time talking to prospective schools and faculty members trying to sell them on our products. This afternoon I was catching up on my call list and spent 15 minutes at the end of my day trying to convince Professor Schmidt at the University of Chicago to buy our version of _Introduction to College Biology_ instead of the new edition from our rival publisher. Truth be told, all textbooks have the exact same information anyway, so it really won't make a difference to the students or the professor one way or another. In case it isn't obvious, I'm _super_ passionate about what I do.

I could probably put up with the shitty sales job if my coworkers were at least fun people, but they're not. Interning at Fire and Ice had led me to have false expectations about what this industry would be like. Ingrid and her co-founder Mal were the coolest women I could ever imagine working for — they were immensely supportive of each other and all their staff, and the working culture was extremely healthy and vibrant. My coworkers there routinely went out for happy hour or ordered lunch to share family-style in the open conference room. At Enchanted Education, I'm not sure anyone even knows the name of anyone who works outside of their direct team. I'm surrounded by corporate lemmings who couldn't care less about the creative side of publishing and instead are focused solely on numbers. I've always hated numbers, which is why I went into writing in the first place. Clearly, this is not a good fit, and I am looking for any opportunity to get out.

The only slightly redeeming aspect of my job is my boss. Regina Mills-Locksley is nothing like Ingrid or Mal, but she is a badass in her own right. She's hot and fierce as hell, and she has managed to make a name for herself in a company dominated by misogynistic assholes. As a result, she's not particularly personable, and she can be a bitch when she wants to be (which is most of the time). But, I secretly admire her, even though she makes my life a living hell more often than not. She has her shit together, and if I didn't want to get the hell out of the sales world, I would probably aspire to be her. She graduated at the top of her MBA class at Stanford and became the Vice President of Higher Education Sales and Marketing for Enchanted Education when she was 34, a position she's held for nearly three years now. Her husband is a well-respected Chicago alderman, easily bringing in a six-figure salary, which I'm sure is a nice complement to Regina's similar compensation package. Every time I deliver my weekly report to her in-person, as she requires, I notice the framed photograph on her desk of her two perfect sons. Her office is relatively plain, likely not wanting to draw attention to the fact that she's the only woman in the executive suite, but that small frame holding boys' school pictures is the one touch of personalization she allows.

Some nights when I come home from a horrendous work day, I find myself secretly holding out hope that Ingrid will call me and offer me a job, that maybe someone will have quit or they'll suddenly have the financial means to hire an additional agent, or even an assistant job. But, every day that passes I know that's less and less likely, because by now they've had two more batches of interns walk through their doors since I walked out. Soon, they'll forget I ever existed and any opening will go to someone more fresh in their minds. I try not to let myself fantasize about that phone call too often, because it will just depress me when it doesn't happen.

One of these days, I might just be brave enough to quit my job. But, that day is not today. I keep telling myself that eventually one of the resumes I've been sending out to other literary agencies or publishing companies will manifest into something, but I haven't had as much as a phone screen for any other positions. So for now, I'll keep my head down and let my soul get crushed by Enchanted Education a little more each day, so I can pay my bills and keep working on my writing on days where I can find some sliver of creative motivation.

 ***.*.***

When my alarm goes off in the morning, I accidentally knock my phone off my nightstand and onto the hardwood floor. I pick it up and pray that it still works, because the last thing I can afford right now is a replacement. I hit the round "home" button and the iPhone screen lights up, causing me to sigh in relief as I silence the alarm. The existing crack across the top of the glass screen has a new small branch radiating from it as a result of the collision with the floor, but it still appears to be functional. I can make my peace with a cracked screen.

I suppose one positive thing about living in an apartment under 300 square feet is that it only takes three steps for me to get from my bed to my coffeemaker in the morning, since my bed is practically in my kitchen. I fill the carafe with water and pour it into the top of the machine before I fumble with the switch to turn it on. It's mornings like these where I wish I would have spent the extra money for a coffeemaker with an automatic timer feature. At least I've started preparing the coffee grounds the night before, because in my half-asleep clumsiness I have accidentally dropped them on the floor far too many times. Now I just do it the night before and save myself the headache.

After watching the first few drops of the amber liquid fall into the clear glass, I force myself to get ready for the day. Unlike Regina, who always looks put together and polished, I am not important enough nor do I care enough to find a perfect suit dress or pantsuit. And, I sure as hell don't own any Prada heels or those cute Gucci mules that I see on every thirty-something woman on the L train each morning. Instead, almost my entire shoe collection comes from Target, except for my three big "splurges": a pair of Toms I bought from Nordstrom Rack, my grey Converse I've had since college, and a good pair of black Nikes that I use when I go running on the lakefront four days per week. I have unintentionally adopted a capsule wardrobe, which I like to pretend is because I'm as trendy as the women I see on Instagram, but the truth is that I just don't own more than thirty-five items of clothing. I'm about to throw on my go-to black ankle-length skinny pants when I remember that today is a casual dress day, thanks to the company picnic planned for this afternoon. I won't pass up the opportunity to wear jeans, so I put the slacks back on their hanger and reach for my medium-wash Levi skinny jeans that one of my roommates back in Iowa gave me when she regained the "Freshman 15" as a graduate student. They're well-loved but sturdy, and they have molded to my thighs and hips over the years. I must admit, I love the way my ass looks in these — not that it's a consideration for a work function, because God knows I don't need the creepy Killian from accounting staring at my backside all afternoon, but nonetheless I could use the shallow boost of confidence they give me on occasion.

I abandon getting dressed halfway through when I hear the coffeemaker finish brewing, opting to start working on my first cup so I can finish waking up. I meander the five steps from my closet to my kitchen and pour myself a cup in my _The New Yorker_ mug, trying not to let it depress me that I still haven't had any of my pieces published in their magazine yet. I quickly throw two frozen Eggos into the toaster and put away a few dishes that I left out on the drying rack overnight while I wait for the waffles. I take a sip of my coffee and look down at myself, realizing what a vision I must be in jeans and a black lace bra, with my hair falling out of its poorly-tied bun. Fortunately, the one small window in my apartment faces a solid brick wall, so no one can see in. My apartment's natural lighting is utter crap, but at least I have privacy. Silver lining.

I smother the waffles in strawberry preserves and quickly inhale them when I notice I'm already running behind schedule. Regina has asked us to come in a half hour early this morning because we will all be leaving early for the picnic and have some end-of-the-month call quotas to complete, and I had forgotten to adjust my alarm to account for the earlier time. I quickly grab a faded Cubs tee shirt I picked up in a secondhand store earlier this summer when I was feeling the need to be part of World Series mania in a shallow attempt to feel more connected to this city, even though it was months after the historic win. I don't bother to brush my hair, instead finger-combing it and tying it up into a slightly more tidy knot on the top of my head. I quickly apply tinted moisturizer and some concealer to help cover up the residual eyeliner that didn't completely wash off last night and then add a quick coat of mascara and lip balm.

Shoving my feet into my trusty navy blue Toms, I grab my bag, phone, keys, and red cardigan to survive the blasting AC of the office and head out of my apartment. I'm halfway to the red line L stop before I realize that I forgot to fill my travel coffee mug and there's half a pot of coffee left on my kitchen counter at home. I don't normally operate on any less than three cups in the morning, and I didn't even finish all of my first, so today is going to be brutal. At least I remember unplugging the machine, so I won't burn my apartment down.

I push my way onto a crowded train car and manage to grab onto the pole as it lurches forward toward downtown. Looking at my watch, I consider my options: I can walk to the Dunkin Donuts that's three blocks in the opposite direction of my office once I get off the train and save some money, or I can grab a cup in from the overpriced cold brew place on the first floor of my office building. I don't even consider Starbucks as a viable option, because I know it will be way more crowded than Dunkin or the hipster place in my building, and I don't have time to wait in their line.

The train comes to a stop a few minutes later and I quickly claw my way out of the throngs of people trying to get on, making my way to the street-level and dodging commuters taking up the width of the sidewalk. I check my watch again and note that I was technically supposed to be at my desk ten minutes ago, so I forgo the coffee run all together and resign myself to waiting at least an hour for the one Keurig in the break room to become available, knowing that I'll have to choke down the artificially flavored coffee to get my requisite amount of caffeine. I scan my ID card at the turnstile in the lobby of the building so I can head upstairs, but the scanner doesn't recognize my card. "Damn it," I mutter under my breath, apologizing to the older gentleman in a poor-fitting suit behind me as I slide past him and move to the next turnstile over, hoping that one will let me through. When it doesn't, I'm forced to go to the security desk to have them check my ID, and there's already a line of visitors waiting to get access. "Just great," I huff, joining the queue.

Another five minutes pass by and I'm finally in the elevator heading up to the fourteenth floor offices of Enchanted Education. "Miss Swan. You're late," I hear a voice behind me say after the other occupants of the elevator exit on the sixth floor. I would know that voice anywhere.

"My apologies, Ms. Mills-Locksley. My ID badge wouldn't let me swipe through the entrance, so I had to wait in the visitor's line until Leroy could check my card and let me through," I reply, sparing a quick glance back to my boss. She is looking down at her phone, typing out a message to someone probably just as important as she is. Although this job is hardly going to be my long-term career, I still find her intimidating, even when she's not looking at me.

"I see. I trust you got it taken care of so this won't happen again?"

I bite my tongue, wanting so badly to point out that she was the one who asked us to come in at 8am, and yet she, too, is strolling in closer to our usual 8:30 start time. But, I resist, knowing that would be a comment I would come to regret. So instead I settle for a simple, "yes, Leroy thinks he fixed it. I'll be sure to test it before I leave this afternoon so there are no further problems."

"Good," Regina replies, her clipped tone designating the end of the exchange and we ride the rest of the few floors in silence. As the doors open on the fourteenth floor, we're greeted with the large "Enchanted Education" wood plaque on the wall that features an embossment of the apple tree that serves as our logo. Even though Regina has been standing behind me, she exits the elevator first, purpose evident in her strides as her heels click across the marble tile of the office foyer. Even though it's a casual dress day, Regina still looks more put-together than any of us entry-level plebeians ever do, even on our best day. Surprisingly, she has opted for denim, though it's a dark wash that still screams sophistication. She has a black v-neck silk blouse tucked beneath the black Gucci belt around her waist. Her structured black blazer fits her like it was hand-carved around her shoulders, just as her jackets always do. Today she has the blazer sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing a subtle leopard-print lining. It's more bold than she usually is at the office, but it just adds to her air of being a true HBIC, especially when coupled with her powerful steps across the floor.

I follow a healthy distance behind her shadow and make my way from the elevator to my desk, poking my head into the break room along the way to see how many people are still waiting for their turn at the Keurig. I sigh when I see the length of the line. I had hoped that we would be the only team called in early today, but it appears everyone had the same idea. It figures…everyone here is a corporate suck-up, happily showing up early to get extra work done before getting the afternoon off to attend the company outing. That's the other thing I hate about this place —I'm all for respecting one's superiors, but the blatant ass-kissing is nauseating. At Fire and Ice, Ingrid and Mal would have called out anyone who was trying to get ahead by sucking up. Here, it's a perpetual competition as to who can be the biggest brownnoser. I refuse to play that game.

When I log into my computer and open my email, I see that Regina has emailed me the list of contacts I'm required to call before I leave for the day. Half of the names on the list are professors who specifically contacted us to inquire about our materials. Of all the calls I make, those are the easiest because they are at least interested in what I have to say. I always save those for the end of the day, because they suck a little less than the rest. The other half will be pure cold-calls, a list composed by our interns who scour university faculty directories and paste names, phone numbers, and email addresses into a massive spreadsheet divided by subject area. My coworker Cindy and I are responsible for everything in the sciences, because it would be too much to ask to be assigned the English category where I would at least be in my discipline.

"You look like you need this." I look up at Ruby, the tall brunette who works in the K-12 science sales division, who is now leaning on the wall of my cubical and placing a cup of coffee on my desk.

"Oh my God, you have no idea. Thank you, Ruby," I reply, graciously taking the coffee. I'm so exhausted that I barely notice the slightly plastic taste from the K-cup. "How is your call list for today?"

Ruby shrugs. "Not too bad. We have a standing team meeting this morning, so our call volume will be a little lower today. We might even get out a little early, so I may swing by H&M on Michigan Avenue before heading to the picnic. What about you?"

"It's manageable, but I definitely won't have time for shopping. If I'm lucky, I might get out of here early enough to actually be on-time to the picnic. And I need to be, considering Regina already called me out for being slightly late this morning."

"How are you late? It's barely 8:45."

"Well, you know that we're all expected to be in at 8:30, even though everyone else's day doesn't start until 9. But Regina asked everyone on her teams to be here by 8am to compensate for the lost productivity time this afternoon. I forgot to set an earlier alarm, and then my ID card wouldn't swipe me through so I had to wait for Leroy to fix it. Of course, Regina was in the elevator with me so she saw me come in at 8:20."

Ruby rolls her eyes. "She needs to chill. She needs a good drink, lay, or joint or something."

"Don't let her hear you say that," I chuckle. Even though Regina isn't Ruby's boss since they work in different divisions, Regina is good friends with Daniel, the VP of the K-12 sales teams and Ruby's supervisor.

"Miss Lucas," a foreboding voice rings out from the doorway a few cubicles down the aisle.

I bite back a laugh as I watch Ruby straighten at the sound of her name. "Good morning, Ms. Mills-Locksley."

"Why are you distracting my employee?"

"I apologize. I just wanted to drop off some coffee for Emma and double check that I would see her later at the picnic."

"Of course you will. Everyone is required to attend the afternoon of family fun," Regina replies. I can't quite tell if that last sentence was intended as sarcasm. The executives here have had the company party lines hammered into their minds for so long that I often think they truly believe their pathetic attempts at morale-building are effective. But, something about Regina's delivery makes me think she might not be buying what Enchanted Education is selling.

"Right. I'll see you later, Emma," Ruby says before turning toward Regina and nodding. "Good day, Ms. Mills-Locksley." She scurries off down the hall back to her own cubicle, sending me one last look of pity over her shoulder as she does so.

"The coffee here is shit," Regina says as she approaches my desk.

I try to hid my surprise at her declaration. It's completely accurate, but nonetheless I'm yet again surprised that Regina is showing any discontent for any aspect of the company — people have been fired for lesser offenses. I'm a little impressed…maybe she really hasn't been drinking the company Kool-Aid. I manage to shrug my shoulders and say "it could be worse," purposely taking a sip of my coffee to prove my point as I'm internally wondering why she is paying a visit to my desk this early in the day.

"Your year-end evaluation is due next week. I've prepared the preliminary report of your sales statistics, and I would like you to look it over and make sure it's accurate before we meet on Monday."

I suppress a groan, because that is one more thing I'll have to do before I leave today. I barely expect to get through my call list, but I'll find a way to get it all done. "Of course," I reply, taking the stapled stack of papers from Regina's hands and placing it next to my computer. I can't believe I've been here for a full year already. It's quite a depressing thought.

"I trust you saw your list of calls for today?" Regina asks.

"Yes. I've already put them in order and am ready to start."

"Good. Get to work," she says, leaving my cubicle and heading back toward her glass-walled office at the end of the hall.

I shake my head as I force myself to look away from the departing brunette and refocus on my work. I pull out my headset and prepare to dial the first number, not looking forward to the next four hours of soul-sucking monotony.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Yes, Regina is married to Robin. No, he won't be a real character in this fic/he'll barely make an appearance, so don't worry if you're not a Robin fan. He'll barely be a blip on the SQ radar :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for all the reactions to chapter 1! I'm glad you're all on board for this journey :)

* * *

The morning had been brutal and by the time I'm finished with all my calls for today and have gone over the documents Regina dropped off for me to review prior to my performance review on Monday, nearly everyone else has already left for the company outing. Regina left well over an hour ago, deciding to take her usual hour-long lunch even though we're all eating at the picnic anyway. Her office is locked up for the day, and the hanging file holder on her door is overflowing with the daily summaries everyone had dropped off on their way out. I decide to slip my performance review and daily summaries under her door, knowing that she won't accidentally miss it when she comes in on Monday morning.

After shutting down my computer and locking my flash drive in my desk drawer, I make my way down the hall to the elevators. "Well, if it isn't Emma Swan," I hear the Irish accented voice approaching from the opposite side of the elevator lobby.

"Great," I mumble under my breath, before turning to the man who insists on wearing leather even though it's the middle of summer in Chicago. "Hello, Killian."

"Heading out to the picnic?"

I nod. "Indeed," I say, hoping not to invite further conversation. The elevator door dings and I gesture for Killian to walk ahead of me, not wanting to give him anymore opportunity to gawk at my ass.

"Would you like a ride?" Killian asks as the doors shut and we start the fourteen-floor descent.

"No, thank you," I say. "I'm fine taking the L."

"Are you sure? It's much quicker by car."

I shake my head. "I somehow doubt that. But nonetheless, I'm fine. I enjoy the walk to the station."

"Suit yourself," he says as he steps out into the lobby of the building, making the turn to take another elevator down to the underground parking garage reserved for a select few employees in each of the building's offices.

I walk through the turnstile to exit before remembering I need to check to make sure Leroy did actually fix the problem with my ID access card, because the last thing I need is to be late to my 9am annual review with Regina when I come back after the weekend. I turn around and walk back through without any issues. I catch Leroy's eye behind the security desk and give him a thumbs up before walking through the revolving doors and heading toward the L stop.

 ***.*.***

Twenty-five minutes later I arrive at the Lincoln Park Zoo, silently cursing the choice of venue. Sure, I love animals as much as the next girl, but it's the Friday before the Fourth of July, and it seems like everyone and their cousin had the same idea. I maneuver my way around families and summer camp field trips, trying to find the designated spot for Enchanted Education's company picnic.

"Imagine seeing you here," I hear Killian's voice, again, behind me.

"Do you know where we're supposed to meet?" I ask.

"I think farther down on the South end. There's open space they reserved. I just got here so I don't know for sure."

"What happened to 'it's much quicker by car'?" I mock, internally scolding myself that he might interpret that as flirting.

Killian shrugs. "Traffic. And parking."

"Uh huh," I nod as I keep my eyes open for anyone I recognize. It feels like the zoo goes on for miles, and I can't figure out how to get rid of Killian considering we're headed toward the same place.

Mercifully, I spot Ruby ahead, stopping for Dippin' Dots at one of the shops. "Hey, Em!" She calls as she sees me approach.

"Oh, thank God," I mutter. "How was your shopping trip?" I ask her as I approach, hoping Killian will take the hint that I'm through with any conversation with him. It takes him a few moments, but he eventually does and excuses himself.

"It was great!" Ruby replies, holding up two bags in her left hand, one from Zara and one from H&M. "They have some major summer sales right now for the holiday weekend."

"I bet," I say as she pays for her novelty ice cream. "Isn't there ice cream at this picnic?"

Ruby nods. "I think so, but I can't help but splurge whenever I see these. I only get them here and at Great America."

"Fair enough. Where is everyone? I have no idea where I'm going."

"We're all back this way," she says, gesturing over her shoulder with one of her shopping bags. "Have you been here before?"

I shake my head. "No. I keep meaning to come here, but it just hasn't happened yet."

"You should come back in the winter. It's cold as fuck but the Christmas lights are magical," she beams.

"I can imagine."

"So, what did Killian want? Did you guys leave the office together?"

I chuckle. "We left together in the sense that we both got onto the elevator at the same time, but otherwise, no. He offered me a ride but I politely declined."

"Why? It can't hurt to get in good with one of the directors," Ruby comments as we pass a few more animal habitats. I can see our company's reserved location in the distance, finally.

"Because, Ruby, he's flirtatious. I don't want to encourage him, especially because it will never happen."

She rolls her eyes at me. "If you want him to stop, why don't you let him know you're not interested? Just tell him you're a lesbian and let him down gently."

"Because, Ruby, I shouldn't have to do that. He's unprofessional as it is, and the last thing I need is for him to see my sexuality as some kind of personal challenge he needs to conquer, or have him making sleazy girl-on-girl comments. Plus, I don't want everyone here knowing my business. It would be different if I actually liked these people and had any sort of social relationship, but aside from you I don't even have anyone's cell number, nor do I want to. I just want to get through my days with as little hassle as possible."

"Right…so how's your writing coming along?"

"It's not. I can't even remember the last time I was able to sit down and write more than a mediocre paragraph in one sitting. It's like all of my creative energy has been sucked out of my body. I don't really have any workable ideas right now and it's driving me crazy."

"Why don't you take a vacation, then?"

I shrug. "I could, I guess. I have a few days of vacation time in the bank. I just feel like I would end up wasting it though, you know? Like, I wouldn't actually accomplish what I want to, and then that would just frustrate me more," I say as we finally reach our destination. I look around at the fifty employees who work on our floor, yet I really only know a handful by name. There are well over one hundred people here, though, because most have brought their spouses and kids. "Great…another reminder that I'm single."

"You and me both, girl," Ruby replies.

"Miss Swan, it's nice to see that you made it," Regina says as she walks up behind me.

"Regina, hi," I say, turning around to face the brunette, hoping that I don't look as gross as I feel. The brisk walk to and from the L station, not to mention traipsing around the zoo path for the past fifteen minutes in the 89 degree heat, is making the few stray hairs that have escaped my bun stick to my face, and I'm fairly confident that my t-shirt has noticeable pit stains.

"Were you able to look over the information for your review on Monday?"

"Yes, I was. I slipped it under your door before I left, along with my dailies."

"Great," she says before walking away. I turn back to face Ruby, just as I hear Regina's voice again. "Our team is at the two picnic tables under the large oak tree," she says before walking away for real this time.

"I guess that's my cue. I don't understand why they throw this company picnic to help us bond, yet we're expected to sit with our own teams. It doesn't do much for building relationships across departments."

"At least you have a decent team," Ruby says. "I'm stuck with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass over there. I'll meet up with you later," she says before leaving me to go sit next to two balding middle-aged men, who I cannot for the life of me recall their real names.

I head toward the table that Regina mentioned, noticing my coworker Cindy and a few others from our department already seated. "Hey guys," I say, sitting down next to a young blonde woman named Alice who works in our literature division. Regina is sitting at the next table over, talking on her phone and completely oblivious to her staff.

"Hi Emma. This is my fiancé Thomas," Cindy says, introducing me to the guy I have only seen in photographs on Cindy's desk. She subconsciously rubs a hand over her small baby bump. I have heard a lot about her boyfriend over the past year, who finally proposed after they found out she was pregnant back in April. This past week they found out they're having a girl, and she told me she's leaning toward the name Alexandra.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas," I say, shaking his hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Only good things, I hope."

"Of course," I confirm as I catch Regina in my peripheral vision as she stands up and leaves the area.

"I'm going to head over to get some food. Anyone want to come?" Alice asks, rising from the table.

"Sure," I say following her over to the grills where they are making hamburgers, hot dogs, and something that I think is supposed to be a veggie burger, though I'm not about to try it. I look around, disappointed that there is no liquor in sight.

We load up our plates and head back to our spots to eat, my pathetic hamburger bun filled with slices of cheese, lettuce, and tomato, deciding to fill up on potato salad and brownies instead. A few minutes later, Regina sits back down at the table by herself. She is no longer talking on the phone, but she is typing quickly, and it appears to be much too long to be a simple text message. "Does she ever stop working?" I ask as I look over in her direction. "Everyone is here, so she can't possibly expect to get a response from anyone today."

Alice laughs. "She's probably sending us a long list of to-do's for Monday morning."

I shrug, realizing it's as good of an explanation as any.

We continue to chat, talking about our weekend plans and where to see the best fireworks on Tuesday for the Fourth of July. Alice invites me to her parents' condo, because they have a place across the street from Navy Pier. "They never use it anymore, but they let my brother and I use it whenever we want. We're throwing a huge party, so you're welcome to come," she says.

"That sounds fun. I'll definitely think about it."

Moments later I'm distracted as I watch a well-dressed man approach. He's ruggedly handsome and oozes charm, and I vaguely recognize him from the countless _Chicago Tribune_ articles that feature his smug and smiling face. Sometimes he graces the news section when he's handling political concerns as the alderman of one of the Lincoln Park wards, but more often than not he's front and center of the Life and Style section, raising money for the children's hospital or attending opening night of a new play at one of the theaters. And when he is featured in the society pages, he's rarely pictured without his blushing drop-dead gorgeous wife on his arm, as they are truly one of Chicago's power couples. Many young Chicago wannabe socialites aspire to be them one day.

"Hey, Robin," Regina says as she stands to greet him. From where I'm sitting, he's much less impressive in-person. Sure, he's attractive, but his charming good looks read more like retired frat boy douchebag up close. I watch as Regina kisses his cheek, but he doesn't return the gesture, instead standing with his hands in his back pockets as he forces his lips into a tight smile. Behind him, I see the two young boys I've come to recognize only from the photographs on their mother's desk. She bends down and rests her hands on her knees as she greets her sons, the youngest of whom runs to her and embraces her in a hug. Her features soften immediately, and for a moment I'm surprised by how genuinely kind she looks. She's always a hardass in the office, afraid to show any emotion, so I'm taken aback by how she seems like a real person in this moment. "Are you sure you can't stay?" Regina asks her husband.

"Emma?" I hear my name being called and I'm pulled back to the present, so I turn my head toward Cindy who has asked me a question. I couldn't help but be distracted by the sudden appearance of our boss' family. It's like a reality show — Enchanted Education's own Kardashians.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask.

"I asked if you wanted to walk around with us. Thomas wants to go see the monkeys, so we're going to head over there when Alice comes back from the bathroom."

"Oh, thanks, but I'm okay for now. I'll meet up with you guys later."

"Okay. See you later," Cindy says as she stands up, just as Alice walks back over to the table. The trio takes off, heading toward the primate house as I resume my casual observation of the family at the next table over.

"You promised, Robin," I hear Regina say as I subtly try to figure out what I missed in their conversation during the past three minutes. She's keeping her voice low, but they're close enough that I can still pick up their words.

"I know, Regina, but I'm a busy man. There are some policy drafts I have to review and meetings I have to go to before the holiday, because everyone will be out of the office most of next week. At least I brought the boys over for your little work event," her husband replies.

"Yes. Thank you, for dropping them off," she says, a hint of sarcasm underlying her voice as she runs her fingers through her youngest son's scraggly hair. I can't help but notice that he really is the perfect blend of both of his parents, with her husband's smile and Regina's dark curly hair (she straightens it most days, but on the rare occasion she's running late, her natural curls have made an appearance). "What time will you be home?"

"Not until after dinner…probably eight or nine at the earliest. I'll grab something at the office. I have to be back there early tomorrow, too, and will be gone most of the day so you'll need to keep an eye on them or call the nanny."

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Regina takes a deep breath. "Hey Henry? Why don't you take Roland to get something to eat?" Regina says to her oldest son, who quickly obeys and takes his younger brother by the hand. She then turns back to her husband and huffs. "Seriously? Robin, we were supposed to go up to the lake house and visit your parents, and you promised the boys you would take them camping while we're there."

"The lake house will still be there another weekend, Regina. It's not going anywhere. There are still at least two more months of good weather left. Don't be so dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic. I don't give a shit about driving up to the dunes. But you promised the kids a cabin weekend and camping in the backyard, so you get to be the one to tell them you're breaking your promise. I'm not doing that for you… not again," she sighs.

"Or, you could take them up there if it means so much to you."

"No. I'm not spending four hours driving in a car to spend the weekend with _your_ parents. This is on you."

"Whatever, Regina. I'll tell them."

"Good. You do that," she says, narrowing her eyes at him. After an awkward silence, she continues. "You better go. I would hate for you to miss your meeting," she forces a smile as he turns and walks away. I quickly look away as she runs a hand through her hair, hoping that it wasn't obvious that I was eavesdropping on their conversation. I can tell Regina is looking at me, but I don't dare look back at her. Instead, I pretend to be extremely invested in the brownie I'm eating. I hear her take a breath to steady herself, just as her kids rejoin her.

"Where did dad go?" Henry, the oldest boy, asks.

"He had to go back to work," Regina says, not missing a beat.

"But I thought he was going to stay for the picnic?" Roland whines. He sounds so deflated, and my heart breaks for him, and a little bit for Regina as she tries to justify her husband's absence.

"He was, and he wishes he could stay, but he has an important meeting he has to go to this afternoon. You know that Daddy works hard to keep the city running smoothly," she tries to explain to an obviously upset six year-old. "You'll see him before you go to bed tonight, though," she says, though I can detect a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "Now, why don't you two sit down and eat your hot dogs? And then we can go see some animals."

I feel awkward for listening in on their conversation, so I decide to get up and grab an ice cream sandwich from the cooler. I look around for Ruby, but she is nowhere to be seen. Resigned, I head back to my table, checking my watch to see how much longer I have to stay here before I can gracefully leave and not get reprimanded for cutting out too early. "Three thirty," I hear a voice behind me as I approach my table.

"What?" I turn around, only to see Regina raising a brow as she looks in my direction.

"You can leave at three thirty," she repeats.

I open my mouth in surprise, wondering if I accidentally spoke my thoughts out loud. I'm sure I didn't, so I don't know how the woman was able to read my mind. "How did you—?"

"Usually when a woman looks at her watch and sighs, she's either realizing that she's been stood up, or she's wondering when she can get out of here. I'm assuming you're not waiting for a date, so I made an educated guess," Regina explains.

"Right," I chuckle. "You caught me."

"Would you like to join us? There's plenty of room," she says, gesturing to the half-empty picnic table.

"Oh, sure," I say, not particularly enthusiastic about hanging out with my boss and her kids, but knowing that I'll look like a total bitch if I don't. I grab my bag that was sitting on the bench of the other table and bring it over, sitting down across from Regina, next to her oldest son. Her youngest is sitting next to her, leaning into her side.

"This is Roland," she says, squeezing the arm she has wrapped around him a little tighter, "and that's Henry. Boys, this is Miss Swan. She works with me."

"You can call me Emma," I say to the kids, and I think I see a hint of a smile cross her lips.

Roland looks up at me and his eyes zero in on the half eaten ice cream sandwich I'm holding between my fingers. "Whoa, there's ice cream? Can I have some, Mommy? Please?"

Regina laughs, and I realize I have never heard it before. She's forced a chuckle in staff meetings now and then, but I've never heard her pure, unadulterated laugh. It's nice. "Sure, but take your brother with you. The cooler is over there," she says, pointing toward the table ten feet away that has an assortment of desserts on it. "You can have one ice cream or one cookie, but not both," she warns.

"Thanks, Mom!" Henry says jumping up and reaching for his little brother's hand.

"Cute kids," I say as I watch them run off toward the promise of sweets.

"Thanks," she replies. "They're good kids." Her eyes glint with pride as she watches them, but I can see conflicting emotions running across her face. Clearly, the image of the perfect family she portrays in the local media and at work may be more illusion than reality. I remind myself that it's none of my business as I take another bite of my dessert. "Are you going to go to any of the exhibits?" Regina asks me when the silence began to get a little awkward.

"Oh, probably. I haven't been here before, so I may as well. Any recommendations?"

Regina shrugs. "It depends on what you like. I like the aquatic animals and anything big and furry, but they have a thing for the reptiles," she explains, nodding toward her boys that are elbow deep in the ice chest, trying to pick out their ice cream.

I nod. "Noted."

"Honestly, though, it's kind of depressing. They do a nice job here, but I always think the animals look sad. And every time I go into the primate area, there's some idiot making faces at the gorillas and orangutans, trying to get the apes to mimic them."

"People suck," I say automatically.

She smirks. "Indeed they do."

Her kids suddenly return, Roland with a rocket pop that is already dripping read and blue food coloring onto his white tee shirt, and Henry with chocolate fudge bar. "Can we go see the crocodiles now?" Roland asks.

"No, I want to see the gorillas!" Henry says.

"We can see both. The crocodiles are closer, so let's start there and then we'll finish with gorillas, okay?" She looks down at her two sons who look at each other before nodding enthusiastically. "Good." She stands up from the table, gathering their empty plates and tossing them in the trash bin behind her. "Miss Swan, would you like to join us?"

I don't want to intrude on their time together, so I politely decline. "Thanks, but I'm okay. I told Ruby I would meet up with her after lunch, so I'm going to go find her and explore a bit."

Regina nods. "Have fun," she says, before taking her sons' hands and leading them toward the reptile house.

 ***.*.***

Twenty minutes later I'm standing in the big cats habitat looking at a gorgeous snow leopard. I still haven't found Ruby, and she isn't responding to my text messages. I give up and head toward the primate house, absentmindedly walking through it and watching different monkeys swinging from the trees. "Oooh, look at that one!" I hear a familiar little voice yell out. Sure enough, Roland is standing in front of the plexiglass pointing at one of the creatures.

I smile as I watch him, remembering what it was like to get excited by field trips when I was his age, before life got complicated. "Hello again, Emma," I hear, as Regina notices me, a little surprised to hear my first name coming from her lips.

"Hi, Regina."

"Where's Miss Lucas?" She asks, a hint of humor in her voice.

"Oh, I never could find her."

"Interesting…maybe that's because she's off with Billy whatshisface from accounting."

My eyes go wide. "What?"

"Oh, did you not know?"

I laugh. "No, I didn't. And I didn't take you to be much for office gossip, Regina."

She shrugs, still watching her kids as they watch the animals in awe. "Well, I'm not, but when my sons nearly catch her making out with him against the side of the small reptile house, I can't help but notice."

"Oh, wow…classy," I shake my head. Of course Ruby would ditch me to hook up with her office crush.

"Mom, where are the gorillas?" Henry asks, suddenly at his mother's side and looking up at her with big hazel eyes.

"They're in the next exhibit over. If you are done here we can walk that way."

"Okay!" He says before calling to his brother. "C'mon, Roland! The gorillas are next!"

"Were you able to see anything of interest on your failed journey to find Miss Lucas?" Regina asks me as we follow her kids toward the structure where the gorillas are housed. Apparently I am now joining them on their little tour.

"Yeah. I found the lion and leopards," I say.

"Ah, two of my favorites. I've always like the large cats. They're so graceful and majestic."

"They are," I agree. "And incredibly beautiful."

"Indeed."

"Mom, look!" Henry interrupts, pointing toward the large gorilla sitting directly in front of the glass, looking at the spectators.

"I see it," she responds, smiling at her son who quickly goes back to watching the giant primate. I feel her nudge me with her elbow, so I send her a questioning glance. "Look," she whispers, subtly pointing at a man in the crowd around the glass. Sure enough, a twenty-something college student and his girlfriend are crouching down right in front of the gorilla, doing a poor imitation of a monkey and gesturing wildly.

"Wow. Sometimes it's hard to believe that we're the more evolved species," I comment.

"I know. I can only imagine what the gorilla is thinking. Probably, 'why am I in this cage while this asshole is allowed to roam the streets?' I would pay good money to see that guy go up against the gorilla without a foot of glass in between them. Put Darwin's theory to the test."

I can't help but laugh, finding Regina's dark side oddly refreshing. She seems so different from the straight-laced professional she is in the office.

"Mom, I'm tired," we hear Roland complain.

"Okay, sweetie, we can head back to the table and rest awhile."

"Can we go home?" He asks.

"Sure," she concedes. It's not even three o'clock, but she's an executive and has young kids with her, so she has a good excuse to leave. "Emma," she starts.

"Hmm?"

"If you want to go home, feel free. No one will notice and they'll just assume you're off in an exhibit."

I smile. "Thank you, Regina." She smiles back and takes her sons' hands again, preparing to lead them out of the enclosure. "Have a good weekend," I say.

"You too, Miss Swan. I will see you first thing Monday morning for you review."

I nod my head, noting how quickly she went back into manager mode as I watch her and her kids walk away.

* * *

 **A/N:** Robin won't actually be seen in any more chapters in this fic - this was his only appearance. He'll be talked about a little in passing (very very little), but since this story is entirely from Emma's POV, there won't be anymore direct Robin/Regina interaction. It's definitely slowburn and some character development needs to happen before SQ get together (since my theme for this fic is really self-discovery for both of the women), but rest assured, it will happen :) It would be a super short fic if they were both available at the start haha.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Happy OUAT day! I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this! In the time since I posted chapter 2, I finished writing _Queen to Play,_ but decided to be an overachiever and wrote four different alternative endings to that fic, and I almost completed _A Montreal Excursion_ (just the epilogue left, but now there's going to be a sequel since there's still a lot to happen with SQ over there now that a big obstacle in that verse is removed...no spoilers for anyone who may not have read it yet). So, I've been distracted and wanted to start wrapping up those fics so I could invest fully in this one, which now I am. This is a short chapter, as I imagine a lot will be (this is very "chick lit" in nature, so epic length chapters will be few and far between. But, I hope to update more frequently since the chapters will move more quickly). I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

* * *

I manage to not only get to work on time on Monday, but I'm actually early. Early early, not just regular early. I am usually able to get to my desk within five minutes of Regina's asinine fake start time on most days, but today I waltzed in and am sitting in my shitty office chair by 8:12 — eighteen minutes before I needed to be. I even beat Regina here, who is _always_ the first to arrive. I always thought that executives at that level would stroll in late so that their assistants can get their coffee and have it waiting for them upon their arrival, but not here…maybe that only happens in movies. In reality, Regina is normally the first to arrive and sometimes the last to leave. But, not today.

I don't even know why I rushed to get here, because as I check my email there's nothing for me to do yet. Regina hasn't sent the daily call lists, even though she usually gets those distributed the night before. I remember the conversation I overheard at the picnic on Friday about how her family was supposed to go to visit her in-laws at their lake house, so I assume that maybe they made it up there anyway. _Good_ , I think to myself, _maybe Regina was too busy on her mini-vacation to send out the task list last night. Maybe she will be in a good mood today._

Since I don't have anything to do, and it's still early, I decide to spend my time prepping for my annual review. As much as I don't care about this job, I'm surprised that I'm a little nervous about it. Aside from my internship at the literary agency, I've never had a job where I have had a formal review before. And at Fire and Ice, Mal and Ingrid were so relaxed that it didn't even feel like I was being reviewed. Hell, my review at the halfway point of my internship took place in a local brewery and my final evaluation was held over lunch at a swanky farm-to-table restaurant with a bottle of wine. Truth be told, I think my anxiety over this big unknown is why I woke up thirty minutes before my alarm went off and why I got here so early. I'm not a big fan of criticism, which makes me often wonder why I picked a line of work that so often results in rejection. I just have to tell myself that when a publisher finally says yes to one of my essays or my eventual novel, all the "no's" I've heard over the years will have been worth it.

By 8:45 everyone else on the team has arrived, but we are all in the same position, sitting around and waiting for some direction. There is literally nothing we can do but wait, because we can't do anything without a list of prospective customers to call. It's unlike Regina to be late, let alone completely off the grid. "No one has heard anything?" Jefferson, the eccentric guy who shares a cubicle wall with me, asks as he spins around in his chair like a toddler.

"Nope," I reply. "Nothing."

"Huh…Should we rejoice?" he snickers. "Perhaps throw a kegger that the Evil Queen isn't here to torture us?"

I roll my eyes at the stupid nickname as the others gathered around us chuckle.

"I'm sure she'll show up. She's probably stuck on the subway without cell reception or something," Ariel, another woman on our team, offers.

"Doesn't she drive her fancyass expensive car every day?" Jefferson refutes.

"Indeed I do," we hear a voice behind us. "Sorry I'm late…it's so nice that you're all so concerned about me, but you need not worry," she says before disappearing toward her office, her delicate facial features formed into a perfect poker face, not giving away anything.

"How much of that do you think she heard?" Jefferson asks, worried.

"I have no idea," I respond. Mainly I'm just confused as to how we didn't hear her tell-tale clicking of her heels as she approached us, until I see her walking around her desk through her glass wall and notice she's wearing flats. _Huh, that's odd_ , I think. I can't ever remember her not wearing heels in the year that I've worked here. Even walking around the zoo last week she was wearing three inch Manolos. I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear my Outlook notification ding on my desktop, reminding me of my annual review in five minutes, along with an incoming message from Regina with today's call list. I ignore the call list for now and instead decide to use the restroom to freshen up before the meeting I've been dreading all weekend.

 ***.*.***

As I walk back down the hall toward Regina's office, I hear Cindy call out "Good luck!" before I knock softly on Regina's open glass door. She's engrossed in something on her computer, so she doesn't even look up when she says, "Yes?"

"Sorry," I say, and then instantly berate myself — that's one of the words Regina has said that women should never say in the workplace, because it shows weakness. It's too late now, so I continue anyway. "Is this still a good time to meet or do you need to reschedule?"

She finally looks up over the thick black frames of her reading glasses. "Oh, Miss Swan, your review. Of course. Come in, and please close the door so we have some privacy."

I nod as I follow her request, silently questioning how much privacy anyone has in an office with four walls made of glass. She rises from her desk and heads toward the small round table in the corner of her office, gesturing for me to follow and take a seat.

"I know this is your first review here, so I'll quickly walk you through the process and then we can talk about your progress over the past year," she starts. I internally sigh, noting that she didn't even attempt any small talk or pleasantries before diving straight into business. I would have expected at least a _'How are you?'_ or _'How was your weekend?'_ to kick things off, but I suppose Regina has always been about getting right to the point. "All the managers here are required to complete the annual evaluations this week, and we have an additional form to complete for all employees who were hired within the past year. Then, we pass all the documents along to the C-suite," she continues. "They will use that information to make decisions about any raises, promotions, departmental transfers, et cetera. Any questions?"

I shake my head. "No, ma'am," I say, slightly taken aback by the word that came out my mouth and earning an eyebrow raise and faint smirk from the woman across from me. I think the last time I called anyone "ma'am" was when I was being berated by the principal in high school after the third time I got caught ditching school — that little adventure led to a suspension that nearly cost me my college scholarship. My guidance counselor had managed to placate them by reminding the sponsoring organization that my parents had just been killed in a car accident, and so I was going through a rough time.

"Okay, then," Regina says as she opens a manila folder with my name on it and places the papers on the table in front of us. I recognize one of the documents as the file she had me review and sign off on last Friday, which outlined my total calls and sales for the year, broken down by quarter. She asks me to talk about the challenges and successes I've had throughout the year, asking me to elaborate on any particularly hard sells. We review my "Enchanted Conduct," as corporate calls it, which essentially is a list of traits and behaviors they expect employees to exhibit, and our manager grades us on how well we embody the spirit of the company. I get full credit in the "attended company events" column, since I went to both the holiday party and annual picnic. I'm relieved to see that Regina didn't deduct any points for leaving the picnic early. She rates me well enough on the other behaviors, including "communicates professionally," "maintains a professional appearance," and "pleasant disposition." I silently wonder if the men in the company are rated on those last two categories as well, or if it's only the female employees. "One last question, and then we'll be all set," Regina says. "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

Her question throws me, as I was not expecting it so I had not prepared an answer. "Oh," I say, stalling, knowing that I can't say _'far away from here'_. "Well, I guess I want to be in a position that allows me to do important work and making meaningful connections." My brain cringes at my own response, knowing it's generic. But honestly, I can't come up with anything better. I don't want to lie and say I want to be a sales manager, which I'm sure is the typical response of someone in my position, because I really don't. The truth is, I pray to God that I'm not still working at Enchanted Education in five years.

"Care to elaborate on that?" Regina asks me. "What do you see as 'important work'?"

"Sure…I want to do something that has a positive impact in other people's lives," I say, and then for good measure I try to relate it back to my current role. "If that means helping a professor select the right book to meet the needs of his students, then I think that is an important job that needs to be done."

Regina nods her head and scribbles down a few notes. "Thank you, Miss Swan. That's all I need," she says, standing up from the table and extending her hand to me to wrap up the formality of the meeting. I smile tightly as I shake it and nod, thanking her for her time as I exit the office.

"How did it go?" Cindy asks me as I sit back down at my desk and let out a sigh.

"It was fine, I think. She didn't really have anything bad to say," I reply.

"Oh, that's great, then," Cindy confirms. "I was so nervous when I had my first review two years ago. It gets a little easier each year," she says.

I bite my tongue, silently hoping that I won't still be here in two years to find out if it does indeed get easier. "Does she always ask about five year goals?" I ask Cindy, curious about the question that Regina posed to me. That topic had never come up during my time here thus far — they didn't even ask me about my career goals during the interview. Instead, they just asked if I knew how to use Excel, liked talking on the phone, and if I had any customer service experience. When I confirmed that the answer was yes, they said "You're hired."

Cindy nodded. "Yeah. It seems to be something that only Regina asks, because none of my friends in other departments have had that question in their reviews. I think Regina does it to get a sense of how she can help us grow as employees. She has a track record of having her team members get promotions more often and more quickly than other managers' staff — half of the current sales managers across the entire company started on her team as sales representatives. She's a hardass, but she's good at her job," Cindy explains, almost reverently. "She seems to care about us at least, even if she doesn't show it."

"Hmmm," I say, pursing my lips and glancing back toward Regina's office where Jefferson visibly anxious as he waits in the doorway for his review meeting. I feel bad for thinking she's a bit of a bitch. "I guess I never gave her enough credit."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** It hasn't even been a week since my last update and I'm updating again! I think I found my stride with this fic now that I have the rest outlined, the writing is happening more quickly than the first few chapters.

We're getting there, but this is a slowburn so don't get too excited...but yeah, we're getting there ;) Also, the italics at the beginning are flashbacks. Any other italics in the fic are thoughts (per usual formatting convention).

* * *

It's four o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and I'm waiting outside the entrance to our office building, leaning against the closed glass door as I fiddle with the handle of my rolling suitcase. As I wait for the car to arrive, I think back to the events that led me to be standing here:

 _I had been sitting at my desk on Thursday afternoon, making my way through the repetitive monotony of my call list. I kept reminding myself that it was almost Friday, which meant it would soon be Friday night. And on Friday night, Ruby wanted me to join her, her roommate, and her roommate's sister who had been visiting from out of town (and was apparently "wickedly hot and sexually fluid") for dinner and dancing at a club Logan Square. My thoughts about finally getting out of my dry spell were suddenly interrupted when Regina had poked her head out of her office and summoned all of us in our little cubicle area to come in for an impromptu meeting. We had all looked at each other anxiously before shrugging and walking in as requested._

 _"I have just been informed that Jasmine from business operations upstairs, who was supposed to be joining me at the College Teaching and Learning conference, can no longer attend. Mr. Gold requested that I bring one of my team reps in her place. So, which one of you wants a free trip to San Diego for the conference early next week? You'll have to man the booth in the exhibit hall, helping to sign up the faculty attendees who want to receive info about our products. We leave Sunday evening and will be back Wednesday afternoon. I'm willing to give you Thursday off as comp time in exchange for giving up part of your Sunday to travel," Regina had stated, her annoyance at the situation clearly visible._

 _Jefferson had immediately shot up his hand. "I'll go, Regina."_

 _Our boss had scoffed and quickly shook her head. "The plane tickets are already purchased, and whoever goes will be sitting next to me for the four hour flight there and the four hour flight back. There is no way in hell I'm forcing myself to be stuck next to you for eight hours in a narrow metal tube, Mr. Hatter. You're out. You can go back to your desk."_

 _"Ouch," I had heard Cindy mutter under her breath as Jefferson turned and stormed out of the office._

 _"Really? No one is volunteering?" Regina had asked in surprise as she stared at our vacant faces._

 _"I wish I could, Regina, but I have an ultrasound and pre-natal visit scheduled for Monday morning. I can't miss it," Cindy had explained._

 _"Fair enough. You can go back to your desk, Cindy," Regina said as she looked at the rest of us. "Miss Swan," she started, focusing her eyes on me._

 _"Yes?" I had responded, my voice unsteady. "I mean, yes, I am available," I quickly corrected._

 _"Excellent. Congratulations, you're it. Meet me here no later than 4p.m. on Sunday. Our flight is at 7, and there will be a car waiting to take us to O'Hare."_

So, that is how I came to be in my current position, standing outside the deserted office building on a weekend afternoon. Oh, and for the record, Ruby's roommate sister, despite her wicked hotness and alleged sexual fluidity, was not at all of interest to me. She was remarkably dull and I was back home, alone, by 11p.m.

I hear footsteps behind me and see Regina rolling her suitcase out of the building, realizing she must have parked her car in the underground garage. She is one of the few people with 24-hour access to the secured building. "Ready to go?" she asks me.

I nod as I see a black Lincoln livery town car approach the curb. The driver immediately exits and offers to take our bags as he opens the door for us to get in.

 ***.*.***

We arrive in San Diego at eleven o'clock Chicago time, but the time change means it's only nine in California. I can barely keep my eyes open as we pull up to the Hyatt where we're staying, blindly following Regina into the lobby and to the front desk as she checks us in. I had spent most of the four hour flight working on my writing, going back and forth between a new idea for a novel I thought of a few months ago but hadn't started to flesh out yet and a sample piece for a random online website popular among millennials. I didn't get too far into either piece of work, but at least it's a start. A few moments later Regina is standing back in front of me, staring. "What?" I ask, startled when I see those brown eyes piercing into me.

She rolls her eyes. "I said I have the keys and asked if you were ready to go up."

"Did you really?" I ask, following her toward the elevator.

"Yeah. I'm fairly certain you fell asleep standing up and with your eyes open. That's an impressive feat," she said. A few seconds later the elevator dings to signal our arrival at our floor. "Here," she says, handing me a keycard. "You're in 417. I'm in 419."

"Thanks," I nod as I take it from her and use it to open the door. I lock it behind me as I let my suitcase drop to the ground, forcing myself to change out of my clothes before I take refuge in the comfort of the foreign bed.

 ***.*.***

It's late in the day the following afternoon, and the conference so far is going well, I suppose. I've been doing nothing, mostly, sitting behind a table in our 100 square-foot booth and pimping out our textbooks to anyone who stops by. But truthfully, most people just come for the bite-size Snickers bars we have in a bowl on our table to attract customers. Regina has been flitting around the conference, apparently meeting with other executives from the company who are in town for the event, as well as scoping out our competitors. She has stopped by the booth for a little while to help out, but she's nowhere to be seen right now. Interest has been low over the past few hours, but most of the attendees are in various presentations, learning about best practices in the art of teaching college students. It should hopefully pick up soon, as there's a half hour break coming up before the final presentation session of the day. Until then, I'm bored out of my mind.

"I don't believe we've met," I hear a British voice say and I look up and see a gorgeous brunette looking down at me from the other side of the table. She appears to be about Regina's age and is quite striking in her black sheath dress that hits at her mid-thigh. She extends her hand toward me. "Fiona Malcolm," she says. "Director of higher education sales for the west coast office of Enchanted Education."

"Oh," I say, accepting the proffered hand and standing up. "Emma Swan. I'm a sales rep in the Chicago office. It's nice to meet you."

"Ah, yes. You work for Regina Mills-Locksley, then."

"I do," I confirm, even though it wasn't really a question.

"Well, that's a shame," she says, a subtle smirk gracing her lips as she still holds my hand in hers. I can feel her eyes coasting over my body in a manner that cannot be described as professional, but it's not necessarily unwelcome. "If you ever want a change of scenery, perhaps someplace less frigid, I'd be happy to ask for you to be transferred to my San Francisco office. I can take you under my wing."

"Fiona," a familiar voice says, approaching the table just as the doors to the various ballrooms open up and conference attendees flood into the exhibit hall. The interruption causes Fiona to finally release the grip she had on my hand. "I see you've met one of my team members."

"Yes, Regina. I was just introducing myself," she smiles politely. "She seems to be quite the model employee."

Regina rolls her eyes. "Yes, and so perhaps you should let her do her job so she can continue being a model employee."

"Very well," Fiona says. "I hope we'll see you at the company happy hour tonight, Emma."

"I'll be there," I reply, not knowing how else to respond and hoping to God that I'm not blushing. As the woman walks away, I let out a breath and catch Regina's eye, who just raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"Emma Swan, is that you?" I hear as a petite woman approaches me.

"Oh my God, Belle!" I say, moving around the table to hug the redheaded Australian. "It's so good to see you."

"You as well. What are you doing here?" she asks me before seeing the sign on the table behind me. "Oh, you're working at Enchanted Education?" she asks, the surprise evident in her voice.

"Yeah, well, writing doesn't pay the bills…at least not yet," I answer quietly, hoping Regina can't hear me.

"Oh, well, that's not a bad gig, I suppose. Are you editing the textbooks, then?"

I shake my head. "No, actually, I'm in sales." I see another look of surprise cross Belle's face so I quickly change the subject before this gets any more awkward. "Oh, Belle, this is Regina Mills-Locksley, my boss and one of the VPs of Enchanted Education. Regina, this is Belle French. She was my favorite creative writing professor in grad school."

Regina nods her head as she makes the connection and shakes Belle's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor French."

"Likewise. Emma was one of the best students I've had since I started teaching in the program five years ago. You have yourself a talented girl on your team," Belle smiles.

"That seems to be a popular opinion today," Regina says, cutting her eyes over to me briefly.

"So, Belle, can I interest you in any textbooks?" I ask, trying to move past the tension that seems to be radiating from Regina.

"Sorry dear, but I don't use textbooks in any of my classes…not really needed, you know? But, I wish you luck, both here and with your writing. And please, keep in touch. If you're ever back in Iowa, please come stop by and visit."

"Of course," I smile, letting Belle pull me into another quick hug before she leaves me to do my job.

 ***.*.***

Later that night, everyone from Enchanted Education is at a trendy bar down the street from our hotel. There are seven of us all together — Regina and I are the only ones from the Chicago office, and then there's Fiona from San Francisco, along with four others from her office, including another sales rep, two other managers, and Robert Gold, the CEO who has dropped by briefly. After he leaves, Regina explains to me that he likes to have a presence at these events, but that he never stays long. He wants people to remember how powerful he is and that he's always watching, because he gets enjoyment out of intimidating his employees.

I make my way to the bar to order another cocktail, and I quickly notice someone coming to stand on my left side. "Fiona," I smile, as I realize who it is. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Indeed, Miss Swan," she says, though I find myself not enjoying it nearly as much as when Regina calls me that. I quickly shake it off.

"Please, call me Emma," I reply.

"Sure thing, Em-ma," she says. "So, what are you drinking?" she asks as she pretends to read the bar menu.

"Whiskey sour."

"Oh, excellent call. Marco," she calls for the bartender. "Can I please get a whiskey sour as well?"

"Right away, ma'am," he responds.

"So, Emma, how long have you worked for Regina?" Fiona asks me.

"I just hit the one year mark earlier this month."

"Oh, well congratulations on that milestone. I trust that you enjoy it?"

Well, this is awkward. I quickly nod and say what she wants to hear. "Yes, I do. Everyone is great to work with," I reply as Marco hands us our drinks and we slowly walk back to the table.

I try to join back into the conversation with the others, but Fiona continues to demand my attention. She seems nice enough, and she's attractive, so ordinarily I wouldn't be against talking with her. But, I can tell that there's some sort of pissing contest between her and Regina, and I really don't want to do anything to irritate Regina, considering I have to work with her five days per week.

Regina quickly excuses herself to go to the bar, and Fiona takes that opportunity to move her stool a little closer to mine. When Regina comes back to the table, she moves to wedge herself between me and one of the sales reps sitting on my other side as she sends a pointed look toward Fiona and clears her throat. "Fiona, dear, why don't you focus on doing your job rather than trying to do one of my sales associates?"

Fiona rolls her eyes as she quickly downs the rest of her drink. She then stands and excuses herself, placing her hand on my thigh before she goes back to the bar for another.

Regina quickly moves to the now vacant stool next to me, moving it over a respectable distance so it's no longer in my personal space before she takes a seat. "Look, Emma, I don't know what your proclivities are and personally I don't care…it's really not any of my business. But, be careful," she warns. I must look shocked, so she continues. "Fiona has a bit of a reputation. She's a notorious predator and has slept her way through the junior staff across both offices, just because she can. She thinks because she's a woman, the laws of sexual harassment don't apply to her."

"Oh," I reply.

"I just don't want you to get yourself mixed up in something you'll regret…at least without having all the information first. You can do what you want, but as your manager I at least wanted you to know about Fiona's history."

"Thanks, Regina, I appreciate that," I reply, looking over my shoulder and seeing the brunette in question standing at the bar, sending me a wink when she catches my eye. I quickly turn back to Regina. "But for what it's worth, I have no interest in her…not like that, anyway."

"Good, then it's not an issue," Regina says, quickly drinking the rest of her drink. "It's been a long day and tomorrow promises to be even longer. I'm going to head back to the hotel. Are you planning to stay longer or do you want to share a cab back?"

"Oh, I'm more than ready to leave."

"Alright. Let's go, then."

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was originally going to include the entire trip, but it ended up being longer than expected so I divided it into two. The second half is already written, so it should be up within a week...maybe sooner if I'm feeling motivated ;). I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews thus far.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving (for those of you who celebrate it). Thanks for all the recent follows and reviews, and here is the next chapter!

* * *

Regina was right — the second (and final) day of the conference is even longer than the first, especially because our work doesn't end when we pack up our promotional materials from our booth to be shipped back to our office and walk out the door of the convention center. After picking up dinner to go from one of the hotel restaurants, we're now sitting at the small table in Regina's hotel room going over the signups and contact sheets we acquired at the conference. I'm entering the prospective client information into our database on my laptop, while Regina sorts through the materials she picked up from our competitor's tables to look over their product pricing and doing some initial recognizance on her laptop. I look over at her and notice that she seems distracted. "Coffee?" I ask her as I stand up and take our now empty takeout containers to the trash bin in the corner of the room.

"Sure, thanks," she says.

I make my way to the kitchenette, quickly making two decaf K-Cups before walking back toward the table. As I approach, I happen to walk behind Regina and can see her computer screen over her shoulder — she's scrolling through a popular Chicago nightlife and lifestyle site, and a photo of Robin and a woman, and another man is on the screen. The headline indicates that it's from the opening of a new exclusive restaurant last night. I hear Regina huff in irritation, so I pretend I didn't see the photo and walk back to my seat, handing her the coffee as I sit down. "Everything okay?" I ask, hoping to appear nonchalant.

"Of course. Just catching up on the news from back home. Nothing important," she says, far too quickly to be believable. But I ignore it and just nod, and we quickly resume our work.

After we finally finish going through everything from the conference, I head back to my room, closing and locking the door that adjoins our two rooms. I quickly shower, as I feel gross after standing in a sweaty convention center all day and packing up boxes of Enchanted Education promotional swag. I throw on some pajamas and sit down on my bed, pulling out my laptop. I admit that curiosity gets the better of me, so I direct my browser to the Chicago news site Regina was on earlier, wanting to read the details of the article that seemed to anger my boss. I find the article and quickly scan it before my eyes settle on the photo featuring Robin Locksley. I read the caption and learn that the woman pictured with him, Guinevere Arthur, is another Chicago alderperson who represents part of River North, the neighborhood where the new restaurant is located. In the photo, they're talking with the district's Congressman who was in town for the celebration. I shrug, because it looks innocent enough to me, given that they're all politicians trying to network and look involved in the community to suck up to their constituents. But, I can't help but remember Regina's dejected expression after I saw her reading it…I can't get her face out of my head.

It is then that I hear her voice coming through the thin wall separating my hotel room from hers. I try to ignore it, as it's clear she's trying to talk in hushed tones. But, it's getting louder as the conversation goes on, and I can't help but overhear bits and pieces. She sounds angry, and I can only assume she's talking to her husband, a hypothesis that is quickly proven when I hear her shout his name. I can't hear the full conversation, but I'm quickly able to get the gist from her side of the argument. "What the fuck, Robin? You're such an idiot," I hear through my wall. "Are you fucking her?" I gasp, as that bit I heard very clearly. I don't think she gave him a chance to respond, because then I hear her continue: "You know what? Fuck you. We'll talk about this when I'm home tomorrow, and you fucking better be there when I get home."

I barely have time to register what I had just heard when there's a loud pounding on the door separating our two rooms, startling me. I get up from the bed and open the door, suddenly very aware that I'm wearing my Cookie Monster pajama shorts (that are frankly more like underwear) and matching tank top. Regina chuckles momentarily as she appraises my appearance, before she refocuses. "We're going drinking. Get dressed…unless you want to go to the bar looking like an overgrown toddler. I suppose that's your prerogative." Before I can come up with a retort, Regina has pulled the door closed and disappeared back into her room.

 ***.*.***

Ten minutes later I am dressed in jeans and a simple black tank top when Regina knocks on the front door of my hotel room. "Good, you put on real clothes…I suppose that will do," she comments as I open the door, grabbing my key and phone before closing it behind me.

We quickly make our way to the ground floor of the hotel and cross the lobby to the adjacent bar. She immediately sits down at the bartop, which is nearly deserted at this time of night on a Tuesday. "Here, you can start a tab," she tells the bartender as she hands over her credit card. "Two shots of Koval."

I furrow my brow in confusion, still trying to make sense of everything that has happened in the past twenty minutes. Aside from her snarky comment on my clothing when I opened the door, she hasn't said anything to me since we left our rooms. I don't know what to say to her or where to start, so I nod my thanks as she passes me one of the shot glasses and quickly toss it back.

"So, how did you enjoy your first conference?" she asks me, as she signals the bartender for another drink. "What do you want to drink?"

"Um, I'll take an IPA," I say, still stunned by her uncharacteristic behavior and realizing that we may be in for a long night. One of us should stay sober, so nursing a beer seems like a better idea than pounding back hard liquor. The bartender disappears to fulfill our requests, and I finally remember that she asked me a question. "And it was fine. I didn't really know what to expect, but it seems we have some good leads on prospective customers, and it was nice to meet some of the west coast folks."

"Ah yes," Regina starts, pausing to down her second shot before requesting a gin and tonic from the bartender. "I bet you did like meeting the west coast staff…People like Fionaaaa?"

I take a sip of my beer as I look at Regina incredulously, trying to figure out what is going on with her. "Fiona's nice, but not at all my type"

"And what is your type, Miss Swan?" Regina asks. "You are into women, aren't you? You're the only non-married female under 30 in the office who hasn't succumbed to the charms of Killian Jones from accounting."

"That has more to do with my self-respect than my sexuality," I reply.

"Ha, touché. And nevermind. My question was inappropriate," she responds, appearing to sober up momentarily.

"What is the deal with you and Fiona anyway?" I ask, realizing I may be treading in dangerous waters. "You two seem to hate each other."

Regina shrugs. "I actually don't have anything against her…not really, aside from her constant immoral prowling of young staffers. She hates me, though."

"Why?"

"We were hired around the same time and both used to work out of the San Francisco office, shortly after I graduated from my MBA program at Stanford. We were often up for the same promotions and I ended up outpacing her, getting an assistant VP role and becoming her boss, before ultimately getting my current VP role. Meanwhile, she's been stuck at the director level of the west coast division for years. Ever since I beat her for the AVP position, she's held a grudge. And when I got promoted again and was no longer her direct boss, she decided she likes to torment me. Whenever she comes to the Chicago office or I bring people to the west coast, she always tries to hit on whoever she can find from my team, knowing they might ultimately quit and then that would screw me over."

"Yeah, she asked me if I wanted to be transferred to her team instead. I figured she was joking."

"No, she wasn't joking. She probably would like to have you closer and take you in as a plaything for her."

"Wow," I say. Who knew that textbook publishing companies would have so much drama and internal politics? "So all of this is because she holds a grudge that you were promoted over her? I had assumed that there may be something else there."

Regina raises a brow and looks over at me with a smirk. "What, you thought she was my ex?"

I shrug in response. "I don't know. I could just tell there was some weird tension between you two and clearly a history of some sort."

"Definitely nothing sexual. Unlike Fiona, I do not sleep with people I work with. Nor do I sleep with women, for that matter."

I can feel her looking at me, perhaps challenging me to say something, but I just take another sip of my beer while making tears in the napkin that is damp with condensation from the glass.

As she hits the halfway point of her third drink, and after several minutes of awkward silence, Regina lets out a sigh. "My husband is cheating on me," she finally confesses.

I'm surprised to hear her say those words to me, but I had heard her accuse him of it through the hotel room wall earlier this evening, so the news itself is not shocking. I'm not sure what to say, so I settle on "What? What makes you think that?"

Regina pulls out her iPhone from her purse that's sitting unzipped on the top of the bar. She quickly scrolls through and opens the article that we had both read separately earlier in the evening. She rotates her phone so it's in landscape view, enlarging the image of Robin and points to it. "That's how I know."

I frown, looking at the photo of Robin and the two politicians again. "The alderwoman?"

Regina stifles a laugh and shakes her head. "God, no. Gwen Arthur is a lesbian. I'm surprised you didn't know that."

I raise a brow. "It's not a club, Regina. We don't all carry membership cards and know each other," I say, quickly realizing that I just confirmed her suspicions about me. Whatever, I have no shame in who I am. I just don't want to become the topic of gossip in the office. I quickly add, "I couldn't care less about Chicago politics, so I don't follow it. I don't know who any of these people are, other than Robin."

Regina sighs. "Fair enough. But no, not her." She then moves her finger and thumb to zoom in closer, focusing on a woman in the background, visible between Guinevere and Robin. "Her. That's Ivy, one of his new office assistants."

I squint to get a better look. "She looks…"

"Young? Yeah, I know. She interned for them spring semester and was hired for the summer for a paid position. She'll be a senior at University of Chicago this fall."

"Shit. How do you know it's her?"

Regina chuckles, sadly. "Office assistants don't go to large events like this. I recognized her from the few times I've dropped off the kids at his office, or when I've stopped by to meet him for lunch. I know that she isn't part of the usual social circle at these events, so the only way she would be there is if she came with someone who was invited. Not to mention all his late nights and weekends at the office recently."

"And he admitted to it?"

Regina shrugs, downing the rest of her drink in one go and motioning the bartender for another. "Not quite. He almost slipped up on the phone earlier, but he caught himself. He tried to blame her going to the event on me, saying that I was supposed to go to this opening with him and he needed a last minute plus one since I had the conference, knowing full well that he never even told me about the event in the first place. He then said another alderman was supposed to go in my stead, but he cancelled on him so he invited his assistant to help her network as she prepares for her job hunt during her last year of school."

"How benevolent of him," I say sarcastically.

"Very."

"Is there any chance that maybe he's telling the truth?" I ask cautiously, knowing that I'm on slippery ground. I don't want to defend the bastard that I've never liked, and I've always gotten a sleazy vibe from him, but there's always a chance it could be a misunderstanding.

Regina narrows her eyes. "No. Robin's a terrible liar. And he didn't even bother to deny my accusation. He just kept saying that I was being 'ridiculous' and 'paranoid.'"

"I'm sorry, Regina," I say, placing my hand on Regina's forearm on the bar, in comfort. The brunette looks down at it, so I withdraw my hand. "What are you going to do?"

"We'll work through it, I'm sure," she tells me with certainty. "I mean, she's going back to school in the fall and her temporary assistant job will be done by then, and it's not like he'll be able to continue to see her when she's back at college."

I raise a brow. "Seriously? He's having an affair with a 21-year-old and you're going to stay with him?"

Regina's glare turns cold. "Know your place, Emma," she warns. "My decisions in my personal life are mine and mine alone. This does not concern you."

Immediately I feel sufficiently scolded. "I'm sorry if I crossed a line, but you're the one who brought me down here to drink away your sorrows with you after this revelation. My apologies for thinking you'd want me to express my opinions. I'm just saying to you what I would say to any of my friends if they were in this situation."

"We're not friends, Miss Swan. And I wanted a drinking buddy, not a therapist."

"Well, maybe you need one. Someone needs to call you on your bullshit." I stand up, quickly chug the last of my beer, and slam the glass on the bar a little harder than I intended. "You're a strong, successful woman, Regina. And despite what people may say about you in the office, you actually are a nice person. You don't deserve to be treated like shit. If he's seriously fucking some college girl, he doesn't deserve you." I turn and walk out of the bar, heading straight toward the elevator so I can return to my room, more excited than I thought I could be about returning to Chicago in the morning. I just want this conference to be done.

 ***.*.***

Wednesday morning I am startled awake by the house phone on my nightstand ringing with my requested wake-up call. It gives me just enough time to throw on something to wear and head down for a quick pastry at the continental breakfast. Our limo arrives to take us to the airport, and although we expected there to be crazy traffic at rush hour and thus left plenty of time to get there, the long commute is brutal. Regina and I are both completely silent for the duration of the ride, given the abrupt ending to our conversation the night before.

I can tell Regina is severely hungover, and I'm guessing she likely stayed at the bar until last call. Even after we pass through the TSA checkpoint and make our way toward the gate, she is still wearing her sunglasses. Immediately after we take our seats at the gate, Regina takes yet another aspirin (her third since we got in the limo at the hotel). As the PA system crackles overhead and another boarding announcement is made, Regina visibly winces. "Could they hire someone with a less grating voice? Jesus," she complains.

I chuckle softly, slightly amused by the older woman's physical discomfort. But then I remember the reason for her bender the night before, and I feel like an ass. If her husband is truly having an affair, even if she decides to stay with the lying bastard, then I can't help but feel empathetic. I quickly glance at the woman next to me before standing up and walking to the Dunkin Donuts a few gates down from us, ordering two large coffees. I reclaim my seat at the gate a few minutes later and hand her one of the cups. "Here, this will help…dark roast, as you like it."

"Thank you," she says gratefully.

Fortunately the next obnoxious PA announcement is that our flight is boarding, so we make our way down the jet bridge and find our seats in first class. I'm not going to lie — flying first class is quite nice, and something I've never had the opportunity to do before. Perhaps business travel has its perks.

A half hour later we're in the air, and there's still an awkward silence between us. I'm staring at my laptop, the cursor blinking on the Word document of my novel outline taunting me. "Look, Emma," Regina says as she turns to look at me and begins to apologize for her rude and unprofessional behavior last night. "It had been a long day and I was intoxicated, which is no excuse, I know. But, I would really appreciate it if we can forget it happened."

I nod my head in acquiescence. "Of course, Regina. It's forgotten."

* * *

 **A/N:** There will be one more chapter after this for what I'm calling "part one" of this fic, and then the slowburn will really kick up a notch. Just trust me :)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This is a very short update, but I wanted it to stand on its own, rather than tack it onto another chapter. This chapter also marks the end of part one of this fic.

* * *

In the week or so after the conference, Regina mostly ignores me at work, which I can only assume means she's still embarrassed by how she behaved that night at the hotel bar in San Diego. She's been limiting her interactions with me to quick hallway conversations and staff meetings where we aren't ever alone. Regina has never been the most social person in the office, but it's still strange when she says hello to the rest of the team in the morning and then quickly averts her eyes from mine before rushing away to the safety of her office.

Today marks two weeks since that night at the bar in California, and the late July heat in Chicago is killing me. As if the walk to the L station in the heat and humidity wasn't bad enough, the overcrowded train car is one hundred times worse. Predictably, all the seats are taken, but I manage to find a place to stand against a divider, so at least I can rest my back up against the plexiglass instead of being pressed against some creepy guy hoping for the train to lurch and let him justify "accidentally" grabbing my ass. I'm able to balance myself just enough to read today's issue of _The Redeye_ that I picked up at the station on the way to the platform, skimming through what I can while trying not to spill my coffee. My eyes are drawn to the center of the events page, where I see a photo of Regina and Robin at a fundraiser for one of the democratic candidates for governor that happened at some wealthy benefactor's lake front mansion last night. Robin's arm is around Regina's waist, and they're both smiling happily as they chat with the businessman turned politician. I roll my eyes, mumbling "I guess they made up" to myself as I fold the newspaper and throw it in my bag, ready to exit the train at my stop.

When I arrive at the office, I go about my boring day as usual. There are no meetings on my calendar for today, so it is literally eight hours (or more, if I need to stay late) of calling prospective customers, aside from the forty-five minute reprieve at lunch when I'll force myself to leave the office and return to the blistering sun, only because I cannot stand the thought of not leaving my desk for the entire day.

 ***.*.***

Ruby meets me a little after noon to walk down to Beatrix, a small café not too far from our office for lunch. As soon as we sit down and place our orders, she quickly starts asking me about San Diego. "So, how was the conference with Queen Bitch?"

I roll my eyes. "She's not that bad, Ruby. And it was fine. Boring, mostly, aside from getting drinks after work with the San Francisco office staff."

"Anyone cute there?" Ruby asks with a wink.

"No one that would interest you. Besides, aren't you and Billy from accounting still hooking up?"

"Yeah, but that's super casual. I like to keep my options open, and it's good to know in case I ever have to go to the west coast."

"Sorry. The only guys I met there were not attractive…and most were pretty old."

"What about any ladies for you?" Ruby asks, taking a bite of her salad.

I shake my head. "Not really. One of the directors, Fiona somebody, kept hitting on me, but Regina said that has more to do with her vendetta against Regina," I reply.

"Regina and this Fiona chick?" Ruby's eyes are wide with intrigue.

I shake my head. "God no. I guess they had a falling out over a promotion or something, and since then Fiona likes to try to work her way through Regina's staff or something in retaliation."

"Is she hot?"

"Fiona? I mean, I wouldn't kick her out of bed, but I didn't go there, and I won't go there."

"You should have. It would have at least been fun and would scratch an itch."

I shrug. "Maybe, but it's not really my style. I'm getting too old for that. And besides, I really don't want to get in the middle of weird office politics. But, please, no more office talk. What's new with you? How was Hawaii?"

Ruby begins to reply, telling me about her cousin's wedding in Maui that she went to recently. She has been out of the office on vacation for the past week and half, which is why we haven't had the chance to catch up after I returned from the conference until now. As she continues her story, out of the corner of my eye I see Regina, Mr. Gold, and Daniel Colter, along with two other men I don't recognize, getting up from a table in the back of the restaurant and walking toward the entrance. I can't help but keep my eyes on them as they walk closer to us. Regina catches my eye and forces a tight closed-lip smile on her face before quickly looking at anything else other than me. "Oh, Miss Swan, isn't it?" Robert Gold, our CEO, asks as he stops in front of our table.

I wasn't expecting him to remember me from our five minute interaction several weeks ago, so I'm temporarily thrown off by his direct address, but I quickly recover. "Yes, hi, Mr. Gold. It's nice to see you. I didn't know you were visiting the Chicago office."

"Oh, I'm not. I'm in town for some other business and thought I would take out two of my VP's for lunch," he says, gesturing to Regina and Daniel behind him. He pats Daniel on the shoulder with a grin before sending a salacious look toward Regina, who grimaces slightly and looks away.

"Hi, Ruby," Daniel says with a genuine smile. Ruby has always said that Daniel is a great to work for, and although I haven't really ever talked to him, he seems friendly enough.

Ruby smiles politely at her boss. "Hi, Daniel."

"Well, Daniel and I should really be heading back…There is a lot of work to do," Regina says to Gold, still not looking at our table.

"Of course, dearie," Gold replies. "Enjoy your lunch, ladies. Take care, Miss Swan," he says as he departs.

Ruby and I both watch the quintet leave before audibly exhaling, not realizing that we were holding our breath. "That was weird," Ruby says as she watches them walk down the street toward the office from our spot at the window.

"Extremely," I confirm with a nod of my head.

"So, that's Robert Gold, the CEO? What a skeezey-looking dude," Ruby says as she scrunches her nose in distaste.

"Yep. I wonder why he only brought Daniel and Regina here, instead of the other VPs in the office? And I have no idea who those other two guys were."

"Your guess is as good as mine. Hopefully it's something good."

 ***.*.***

A few hours after I return from my lunch with Ruby, Regina pops by our team's cubicles to remind us that our end of month summaries are due to her by the end of the day. "Also, Emma, I'd like to speak to you this afternoon. Come by my office at 5pm. And Cindy, we're scheduled for 4:30. Please be on time." I nod at Regina's request, although I'm a little confused. But, I hope that this means we can finally work past our awkwardness. This weird tension is driving me crazy.

I manage to finish my call list a little earlier than usual, as most of my professors today are not teaching in the summer and therefore not at their office phone numbers. Instead, I follow up my voicemails with an automated email and give myself a little time to work on the daily crossword while I wait to meet with Regina. Moments later, Cindy comes back from her meeting looking extremely happy, though I can tell she's trying not to be too obvious. I still have a few minutes before it hits five o'clock, so curiosity gets the best of me. "What's going on? What has you looking so excited?" I ask her.

"I know we're not supposed to talk about these things, but she has the annual raises and promotions information back from the C-Suite. I haven't had a raise since my first year here when I finished the probationary new-hire period, but I got one today," she beams. "It's not a promotion, but it's something. And with the baby coming…God, it's such a relief," she whispers to me.

"Cindy, that's wonderful news! Congratulations!" I say in a hushed voice, not wanting to draw attention from the rest of the team. I'm genuinely happy for Cindy, as she really loves her job here and has been working exceptionally hard. "Wait, did you say you got one after your one-year probationary period?" I ask, hoping that if that's the case, I might get one, too.

She nods her head. "Yeah. It's pretty standard. Okay, you're up! Good luck," Cindy says to me with a smile and a quick thumbs-up. I laugh as I get up from my desk and head toward Regina's office.

I knock on the closed glass door, and I see her waive me in. "You wanted to see me?" I ask as I step inside and close the door behind me.

"Yes, thank you for making time in your schedule on such short notice."

"Of course."

"I'm going to get straight to the point, Emma," Regina says, walking over to me to hand me an envelope before returning to her tall leather chair behind her desk. "You're fired, effective the end of this week, though I can't blame you if you don't wish to return after today." My jaw drops, but she continues on with her canned spiel, not giving me even a second to absorb the news. "You'll receive your last paycheck on the 31st. Human Resources can assist you if you have questions about COBRA insurance, and your notice of termination is in that envelope in case you need it to claim unemployment, should you choose to go that route."

"Wait, what? Did I do something wrong? Is this about what happened at the conference or…?" I ask, the shock still struggling to register in my brain.

"It has nothing to do with that, Miss Swan," she says.

 _Oh, so we're back to "Miss Swan,"_ I think to myself.

"Your sales numbers didn't quite meet the quota for last quarter, and it is customary that when cuts need to be made, the last in are the first to go, especially when they're underperformers," Regina says unapologetically before turning to her computer, returning to whatever project she was working on as though nothing happened.

She clearly isn't going to say anything else, so I don't even bother saying goodbye as I turn and head to my desk, noting that everyone else has already left for the day. _No wonder she wanted to wait until five o'clock to meet with me. She probably thought I would cause a dramatic scene. This way there are no witnesses._ I grab my purse from the locked desk drawer and my favorite coffee cup that I brought from home, the only thing of personal value that I keep in my office, and storm toward the elevator. As I watch the elevator doors close, I see a glint of dark brown hair and the tell-tale sound of her heels walking past, likely heading toward the break room to get coffee like nothing happened. _What a callous bitch. I can't believe I actually defended her to Ruby,_ are my last thoughts as I descend the fourteen floors to the lobby for the final time.

 ***.*.***

What I didn't see that day when I left the offices of Enchanted Education for the last time, and what I wouldn't learn until much later, was that as soon as I turned to walk out, Regina took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hopefully you didn't see that coming ;) Well, at least Emma doesn't have to worry about the drama of dating someone she works for! I'll try not to take too long to post the next chapter/the start of part two and leave you guys hanging. I'm pretty much updating this fic weekly at this point, and will do my best to stick to that schedule.

Thanks for reading and all the reviews so far! I really appreciate it.


	7. Chapter 7: Interlude

**A/N:** Well, this is appropriate. Last night's episode of OUAT didn't have a single Regina scene (wtf is up with that?). I'm carrying on that tradition with this chapter — this one is all Emma. But, don't worry, Regina will be back in the next. This is just a mini-interlude to bridge the gap between part I of the story and part II (which will officially start in chapter eight).

* * *

 **Interlude**

I'm not even _that_ mad about being fired, at least not really. I mean, true, I had never been fired from anything in my life until Regina said those two words, and I have always prided myself in doing any job I had well. God knows I couldn't have cared less about the work I was doing at Enchanted Education, but that didn't mean that I didn't put the effort into it. And yeah, I probably would have quit within the next year anyway, or as soon as I could find something else, but at least it would have been my decision to leave. This has been a giant axe to my ego and self-esteem. Not to mention, it makes finding a new job that much harder after being fired from my previous one. Regina obviously didn't offer to be a reference for me, which means I'm back to using Ingrid and Mal. They're wonderful and agreed, of course, but my internship with them was over a year ago. Not having a reference from my most recent employer and first full-time job is a huge red flag for any potential opportunity.

So, it's been a month since I walked out of the Enchanted Education office, and I am gloriously unemployed. Frankly, I gave up trying to find any sort of full-time job at all related to my industry about a week ago. I've been more or less searching for the past year anyway while I was still at Enchanted Education, and I never got any leads. There just isn't anything out there. I've been able to get back into my tutoring gig and my old bar rehired me as a bartender for three shifts per week, so I can at least pay my rent in the meantime, but it's getting so frustrating. This is not how my life was supposed to go.

I've been trying to work on my novel with my newfound free time, but even that I haven't been able to focus on because I've been too distracted with working odd hours at the bar and tutoring rich high school kids who can't seem to figure out how to score well on the SAT. (Or, more likely, they don't care about it but their overachiever parents do. "Oh, but, Steven just must go to Harvard," one mother had recently complained to me. "He's a fourth generation legacy. Crimson is in his blood." Yeah, well, little Steven has a C grade point average at best and can barely explain what an analogy is, let alone correctly solve them on the standardized test. Not to mention, he prefers to spend his free time playing Grand Theft Auto instead of volunteering and taking on leadership roles at school. Sorry, Mama Bear, but unless you donate enough money to build the university a new building, little Steven will never be wearing crimson, unless it's daddy's, granddaddy's, or great-granddaddy's hand-me-down college sweatshirt). I'm so fucking over it.

This morning, though, I made a decision. It was something that had been brewing in my mind for awhile, but I haven't had the guts to do it until now. This morning I emailed my apartment management company and told them I'm not renewing my lease that will be up in two months. I asked them to list my apartment now and see if they can find someone to sublet it, because I need a change and am getting the hell out of here. Worst case scenario, I'll have to spend some of my savings to cover the remaining time on my lease, but I'll gladly deal with that inconvenience. I'm sick of my neighborhood, and I'm sick of this tiny shithole apartment. I also called the bar and gave them my notice, and they said that I can be done as soon as Sunday, once I finish my shift that ends at 2am that morning. Awesome. And I then I called little Steven's parents, and the others I've been tutoring, and told them I'm moving early next week and that they'll have to find some other broke underemployed twenty-something to take my place.

So, as of this upcoming Sunday night — only two days from now — I will officially be homeless and jobless. I should be freaking out, but I'm not. I have a strange sense of calm and feel like this is the first time since my internship was drawing to a close that I've felt in control and somewhat free. It's time I really prioritize myself and do what I want to do.

I didn't make the decision to give up my apartment and my only sources of income in haste. Yes, I was fed up with everything and had reached my breaking point this morning and finally acted on it, but I do actually have a plan. This morning, before I contacted my remaining employers and apartment company to say "peace out," I had a long overdue phone call with Mary-Margaret Nolan, my pledge mom from my sorority in college. She was a junior when I was a freshman and joined the sorority, and we've stayed good friends ever since, despite our very different personalities. After she graduated, she and her college sweetheart David got married. He went to vet school while she got a job teaching at an elementary school close to his university. After he graduated with his DVM degree, they moved back to his home state of Wisconsin, where he opened his own practice and she continued teaching. They bought a large piece of property on one of the states' many lakes shortly thereafter, and they just had their first child last year. After taking maternity leave, Mary-Margaret had decided she wasn't ready to go back to teaching, and instead she took on some side projects renovating and expanding their home. She's now turned it into a little Airbnb getaway. When we spoke this morning, she invited me to come up for a visit, but I then asked if I could rent one of the small cabins they have on the property for a few months so I can really focus on my novel and cut out any distractions — it will be like my own little Walden Pond. She literally squealed with excitement when I asked, so I just sent her a money order to cover the first month of renting out her smallest cabin.

It's a big risk, as I am literally going to deplete my savings if I end up staying the full three months I'm planning to. As an only child, I inherited everything my parents had after their car accident my senior year of high school. Of course, I wasn't given it right away, as they had a will that dictated what I would have access to and when. They had set aside enough for my college tuition that wasn't covered by scholarships, and then a healthy amount of their own savings, not to mention the modest amount from the sale of my childhood house that I finally put on the market when I graduated college. As the daughter of a bank manager, I grew up learning how to be fiscally responsible, so I have tried not to touch any of the money they left me. It's been sitting in my savings account for safe keeping. Thus far, I have only used it to pay for living expenses while I was in graduate school, opting to take out student loans to cover tuition, because I wanted to keep the financial cushion my parents had left me in case I had trouble finding a job after graduation. (Sadly, that was actually the case). I have only used it in emergencies since then. It provides me enough of a safety net to give myself several months to really focus on my writing without having to stress about anything else in my life, and for that I am grateful.

So, this is it. I'm giving myself three months to write my novel. I have no excuse not to get this done, because I will literally have nothing to distract me. I'm hoping to sell all my furniture on Craigslist over the next few days, and Ruby offered to keep my extra clothes and small items I can't bring with me in her apartment's storage unit while I'm gone. I'm only bringing the bare necessities, and after posting a "Going of the grid" announcement on Facebook and Instagram, I deleted the apps and deactivated my accounts so that I can legitimately disconnect from the world. If I can't get something of quality written during this little self-imposed solitude, then I'm not cut out for this path and will call it quits. I'll resign myself to come back and join the corporate world once again, or maybe go back to grad school (yet again) to get my teaching certificate or become a lawyer. But right now, I owe it to myself to really give this a try, and to do so with 110 percent of my effort. Wish me luck.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! I know this was short but I didn't want it to drag on, and the next chapter will begin with a time jump forward, when we'll find out how Emma did on her writing adventure/if she made any progress, or what she'll have to do instead. And, Regina and Emma will see each other for the first time in months. I just wanted to give everyone a sense of how Emma was handling being fired and her mindset/plan before we jump forward.

Also, now that I'm done with teaching for the semester and grading all my students' final papers, and my own phd semester is wrapping up, I'm about to have winter break which means more time for reading and writing. I'm planning to continue updating both this fic and _A New Exploration_ weekly, but I've also started working on two holiday mini-fics (that may be one shots, but more likely tri-shots). The first chapter of the first fic should be up early next week, or maybe even this weekend if I'm feeling particularly productive.


	8. Chapter 8: Part II

It's been two months since I started my self-imposed writing exile, and things are going…okay. As well as I could have expected, I guess. The hot and humid summer has finally mellowed, and the first leaves are starting to change from green to shades of orange and yellow as the slightly cooler weather is ushered in. My novel is far from having a complete first draft, but it's slowly getting there. I've made considerable progress, so it seems like this little nature retreat has done some good.

I must admit, unplugging from the rest of the world has been refreshing. Being able to wake up around sunrise without an alarm clock, going for a run around the hiking trail at the lake, and then coming back to my tiny cabin to work on my writing with nothing to distract me except a view of the forest has been cathartic. I haven't even read the news since I've been out here. I know David does every day, so I trust if something important were to happen, he would tell me. I'm completely isolated — except for a few meals each week with Mary-Margaret and David, and the occasional run-in with other guests staying on the property — and I'm loving it.

The cabin where I'm staying is smaller in square footage than the studio apartment I gave up in Chicago to come here, but it doesn't feel that way. I think it's probably the windows that surround the home on all four sides and the two well-placed skylights that keep the tiny space feeling open. The ceilings are also taller than the house is long, adding the illusion of airiness. There's a miniscule kitchen right when I walk into the cabin, along with a built-in banquette. On the opposite end is a small bathroom, along with the smallest living room ever, containing just a loveseat across from the desk where I've set up shop. Thankfully there's no TV in the home, and aside from a few movie nights with David and Mary-Margaret in their house, I haven't even caved to watch Netflix on my laptop. Above the living room is the sleeping loft, which is not nearly as claustrophobic as I expected (thank God for the skylights). It's actually insanely relaxing lying up there at night and being able to see the stars — we're far enough away from the city lights that I can _really_ see them. Sure, I saw them all the time in Chicago, but it's not the same as it is here. I never realized just what I was missing.

Mary-Margaret and David built this tiny house as their first venture after they finished renovating their main house. One night over beers on their porch, David explained that this was their test cabin to see if they really wanted to run a small rustic bed-and-breakfast retreat. They started renting this one out, and then when they realized they loved hosting guests, they expanded.

Now, they have a handful of cabins ranging from the one-person tiny house I'm living in to larger cabins that can comfortably sleep four to six visitors. It seems as though I am not their first "creative" guest they've had who has come here to get away from it all and find their muse — before I arrived, they had a painter stay for two weeks, and before him was a violinist and composer for nearly a month, all in the same cabin where I'm currently residing. It seems their bit of land sparks inspiration. The other cabins have had their fair share of visitors while I've been here, too, ranging from a bride and her bridesmaid for a girls' weekend to small family excursions, and even a newly married couple on their honeymoon. No wonder Mary-Margaret left behind her teaching position for this — this is a successful business.

I'm planning to stay for another month at least, which is right in line with my original three-month intention. Mary-Margaret keeps trying to convince me to stay longer, which is the argument we're currently having over breakfast this morning in her kitchen. Even though my cabin has a kitchen, albeit an extremely small one, (really it's just a microwave, toaster oven, half-sized refrigerator, sink, and a two-burner stove), I often find myself accepting Mary-Margaret's breakfast, lunch, or dinner invitations a few days per week. She loves to cook, and she always does so for guests on their first morning on-site, so who am I to turn down her offer for her homemade pancakes (completely from scratch) and the cold-brew coffee she's spent all summer perfecting? The way to my heart is through my stomach, and she knows this.

Right now, she's lecturing me from her place at the stove, flipping a thick piece of French toast in the pan. "Emma, I don't understand why you don't stay a little longer," she casually starts, as though we haven't already had this conversation several times and like we don't know exactly where it's going and how it will end. "It's not like you have anything you _have_ to get back to. You can write from anywhere, and you said you gave up your apartment…"

I sigh as I take a sip of the coffee she handed me a few minutes ago. She's finally figured out the appropriate water to coffee ratio and the right brewing time for the concentrate. It's not too bitter, and it's not too weak. It's perfect. "We've been through this, Mary-Margaret," I say, trying not to let my impatience show. "I can't stay here. First, there are literally no jobs in my industry out here, so I need to head back to Chicago if I even want to hope to find a job at a publishing house or agency. And if I can't get a job in my field, I at least need _a_ job… _any_ job that won't be too demeaning our soul-sucking."

"You mean like when you were at Enchanted Education? Because that didn't sound soul-sucking _at all,_ " she says, challenging me to disagree.

I can't deny it, because she knows it's true. Sometimes on really bad days I would call her to bitch about Regina, Killian's creepy staring, and the horrible, horrible faculty members I had to suck up to just to make a sale. "Of course it was. But at least it was in my field…sort of." When she gives me a skeptical look, I continue. "Okay, not really. But, it was a job. It paid money, decent money. And while I wouldn't go back there even if Regina called me and begged me to come back, it was still something. But Chicago has other jobs. Even if I decide to work in retail or go back to bartending, at least there are options there. What would I do here? Work at the Piggly Wiggly bagging groceries? That isn't exactly going to help me find my creative spark or be intellectually stimulating."

"If you want to bartend, we do have a bar," she points out.

"Oh, yes. Johnny Appleseed's Beer Shack," I roll my eyes. "The one that's twenty minutes away and only open until 10 p.m."

Mary-Margaret shrugs. "Well, I don't know why you need a job anyway. You want to be a writer, so you should write. Focus on that."

"Easier said than done, Mary-Margaret. I need to be able to pay rent. I've already dipped into the money my parents left me, and I don't want to rely on that any longer."

"No, you don't. You can stay here free of charge," she smiles at me.

"We've been through this, _Mom,_ " I roll my eyes, my tone mocking. She hates when I call her that, referring to the familial monikers of our sorority days when she was my pledge mom. She's always had a penchant for mothering me when she disagrees with my life choices, or when she's trying to help me like she's doing now, so I bring up her hated nickname to let her know she's toeing the line. "You already tried to give me back the money I paid you to rent the cabin for three months, and I refused to take it back. I'm not going to be your charity case."

"It's not charity, Emma! We have the space."

"I wouldn't feel right about not paying you rent. I'm not going to freeload off you. You've worked hard to build this place, and you should be renting it out to paying guests. I'm not going to take up valuable space."

"You're not taking up space, Emma. And I didn't mean that you should stay in the cabin once your three months is up. We would rent that out once you're done with your 'official' stay. But in case you haven't noticed, this house is quite big. We have guest bedrooms here that we never rent out to random strangers who find us on the internet. But, we would be happy to have you stay with us. David and I love having you here, and I've missed having you around. It was so much fun when we lived together in the sorority house."

"We were in college. You have a husband and baby now. We're well past the age of trying to sneak boys into the sorority house," I point out.

"That's what you think," she winks at me and laughs. We both know she's being ridiculous — she's so hopelessly in love with David and they're so disgustingly into each other that she would never cheat on him. And, the few times she had defied the house rules and snuck him in, it was literally only to sleep or cuddle up and watch a movie. They had both waited until they got married to take things to the next level. "Besides, you were never sneaking boys in. You had it easy."

I chuckle, thinking back to all the times I got caught with a girl in my bed in the house — sometimes a fellow sorority sister, but more often it was someone who wasn't affiliated. It wasn't explicitly against the rules to have female friends visit, as long as they didn't stay overnight (there was a "no overnight guest" policy for everyone). They couldn't change the daytime guest policy to "Emma isn't allowed to have female visitors," because then it would look discriminatory. Some of the other girls hated me for it, because I got away with having sex in the house, but I often offered to help them sneak their boyfriends in to help smooth the waters. The number of times I would go ask our house mother to help me with her cookie recipe just one more time at the exact moment our sorority's vice president was sneaking her boyfriend in or out of her room was laughable. I did become quite the baker after that experience, though, so I can't really complain.

"That is true," I say, returning my thoughts to our conversation. "But still, you have a life and a family, and I can't keep escaping in this fantasy much longer. I need to return to the real world, and the longer I wait the harder it will be. I'm not Emerson or Thoreau."

"Maybe you could be if you stayed here a little longer," she says with a knowing eyebrow raise as she slides a plate of French toast my way.

I shake my head as I bite into the decadent breakfast, unable to suppress a moan. "God, this is good," I say, almost reflexively. It's not that wimpy French toast I'm used to from that shady 24 hour breakfast place a few blocks away from my old apartment in the city. No, this is made with Texas toast, and it's thick and gooey and slathered in butter and syrup.

I chance a look at the pixie-haired brunette, who is grinning ear-to-ear. "You could have this every day if you stayed with us a little while longer."

I hold her stare as she takes a bite of her own toast, the gleam of victory in her eyes. She knows I'm weakening against her offensives.

 ***.*.***

In the afternoon, I'm double-teamed by both Mary-Margaret and David as I take a break from writing to help them prepare for a big welcome event happening this evening. It's Columbus Day weekend, which is apparently a big deal up here. As David explained it to me earlier this afternoon, it's a three-day weekend since kids have off from school on Monday. It's a nice time to visit the little town because it's still warm enough to be outside comfortably, but it's also the beginning of fall and guests can enjoy the changing seasons. David and Mary-Margaret are completely sold out this weekend — it's their first "no vacancy" day since they started taking visitors back in April. Aside from me, there's one other couple who has already been here for a few days and is staying through the weekend. Throughout this afternoon and into this evening, there will be 15 more people arriving. Mary-Margaret has been frantic all day, preparing to changeover the cabin that was just vacated this morning by the honeymooning couple.

David and I are standing in the kitchen over a large garbage can, shucking about two dozen ears of corn, depositing the husks directly into the trash. Mary-Margaret is chopping a variety of lettuce from her garden to prepare a salad to accompany the burgers and fish he's going to be grilling tonight. "It'll be a regular backyard surf 'n' turf," he says with a smile.

"It sounds delicious," I say, legitimately excited. David has always been a bit cheesy — okay, a lot cheesy — but the man knows how to work a grill. I won't eat the burger since I'm still trying to be vegetarian (most days, anyway), but I can't pass up some fresh fish from the lake.

"So, Emma," David says, sending a knowing look to his wife. "Mary-Margaret mentioned that you might be joining us in our guest room after your rental runs out? I think that's great. We'd love to have you."

I roll my eyes. That woman is relentless and will stop at nothing to get what she wants. "That's not at all what I said, actually," I clarify, sending an annoyed glare toward Mary-Margaret. "I should really be getting back to Chicago once my little retreat is done."

"David," she says in that tone I know all too well, the one where she's clearly about to chastise me under the guise of speaking to someone else. "Would you please tell Emma that she is being ridiculous, and that there is no good reason for her to leave this soon?"

He looks at me and points back to his wife. "What she said."

The brunette just gives him an exasperated sigh and goes back to work slicing some vegetables, but it isn't long before she speaks up once again. "Also, David, please tell her that she wouldn't be freeloading."

"You wouldn't be freeloading," David says to me, automatically echoing his wife's words.

"I would feel like I would be," I reply. "And besides, I really do need to get back home…eventually."

Mary-Margaret smiles at me. "Yes, eventually. But not now, and if I have my say, then not next month, either. And seriously, Emma, if you would feel uncomfortable staying here for free, I'm happy to put you to work."

I look down at the discarded corn husks in the trashcan by my feet and the stack of corn on the counter next to us, ready for the grill. "You kind of already are," I point out, my eyebrow raised. "And I'm even paying you rent right now," I tease.

"See, all the more reason for you to stay here free of charge for a bit. You've earned it… Just please promise me you'll think about it. I like having you around. It helps balance the estrogen," she says, looking over at her sleeping 18-month old son, who is halfway through his afternoon nap.

"Fine, I will think about it," I relent.

"Great!" she says, placing the salad she just prepared in the fridge. "I'm going to go get ready for our last two families to check-in — they should be here in just a few minutes. David, we should get started on the grill in about an hour. I prepped the burger patties earlier, so they're in the fridge and ready to throw on the grill whenever you are."

He gives her a mock salute and a smile. "Yes, ma'am."

"Emma, thank you so much for helping this afternoon," she says to me. "We'll see you at dinner?"

"Of course. And you're welcome. It was a nice break from writing," I smile back, grabbing my water bottle and following Mary-Margaret out of her house. We walk together down the path until the trail splits, where she turns left to go greet her newest arrivals while I turn right and head back to my little adopted sanctuary.

 ***.*.***

I manage to get another chapter fully outlined and sketch out a few paragraphs in more detail in the short time I have before the cookout tonight. I'm really enjoying where the character development in my story is leading. Usually I write modern-day chick-lit fiction, but being out here in the backwoods of Wisconsin has inspired me to go in a different direction. The forest out here is almost majestic, and I can only imagine how stunning it must be in winter under a blanket of snow. (I really want to see it, actually, which makes Mary-Margaret's offer to extend my stay into November and December even more appealing). While daydreaming about winter on the first day the temperature became noticeably chillier last month, I started thinking about snow, which led me to think about the classic _Snow White_ fairytale and a darker, edgier retelling of it. So, that is what I'm attempting to do. In my version Snow is not the pure, innocent princess depicted in the Disney film, and even the Grimm's version looks like it belongs on PBS Kids compared to mine.

My fingers stop typing as I come to a natural breaking point, which is good because I'm not quite sure how to write the next scene. I look at the clock in the corner of my screen and see that the welcome dinner should be starting in a few minutes, so I quickly save my work, close my laptop, and prepare to head over to Mary-Margaret and David's backyard.

As I walk over, I shake my head as I realize how much these past two months have changed me, or at least some of my habits. In Chicago, I would rarely even walk to the corner shop hungover on a Saturday morning for a to-go cup of coffee without covering my face in foundation to hide my dark circles and without a fresh swipe of eyeshadow and liner to make me look awake and spry. Here, though, I can't remember when I last wore anything on my face. Right before I left my cabin I applied a quick coat of mascara, and even that feels heavy on my eyelids now.

"Hi, guys. Anything I can do to help?" I ask my friends as I approach the picnic area. Their backyard has the best view of the lake, and during their renovation process they built a large deck, complete with a brick pizza oven, massive grilling station, an outdoor bar, and built-in picnic style seating that comfortably sits two dozen people. Below the deck is a grassy area that leads toward the lake, but before reaching the water, they have a huge fire pit in the ground. They have a bonfire on the schedule for later tonight once it gets completely dark, and I can't wait to burn marshmallows over the flames.

"Yes, actually," David says, flipping the burgers on the grill. "You can go grab yourself a beer, sit down, and get comfortable. You're done working for the day."

I smile and pat him on the back as I go do exactly that. Mary-Margaret follows behind me, grabbing another glass of wine for herself at the bar. "So, I counted 9 people other than us and the Ericksons," I say, referring to the couple who has been here for a few days already. "Weren't there supposed to be 15 people coming in today?"

Mary-Margaret smiles as she nods. "Yes. The family I checked in this afternoon said they'll be a few minutes late for dinner. They hit traffic on their way up and were a little later than they planned to be, so they're still getting settled into their cabin. The other family is running a lot late. I guess the mother got delayed with some work crisis. She called earlier and said she should be here by six."

I nod my head as I take a sip of my beer — a Leinenkugel's, obviously, since it's Wisconsin. Mary-Margaret takes the opportunity to parade me around, introducing me to all the new guests and telling them that I'm a novelist. I have to quickly correct her and clarify that "well, I'm not one yet," but then she just smiles and says that I will be and that I'm her favorite writer. I guess it's better to have overenthusiastic supportive friends than those who constantly remind me of how hard the business is. I end up sitting down with one of the families as she jets off to go greet the latecomers, who have just called her to let her know they've arrived.

My back is to Mary-Margaret and the new guests as she comes back over, asking them "are you sure you don't want to drop your bags off in your cabin first?"

When I hear the voice say, "No, dear, I'm fine. I just have the one bag and it's been a really long day, so I'd love to grab something to eat first. If I go to the cabin I'll probably take a nap and miss the cookout entirely," I freeze. My back straightens and my muscles clench, my sympathetic nervous system in a battle between fight and flight. I know that voice. I've been yelled at by that voice for the better part of a year. I thought I was done with her.

"Well in that case, let me introduce you to our other guests," Mary-Margaret's cheery voice counters the deep, sultry timbre of the other woman.

 _This cannot be happening. Goodbye, relaxing retreat_ , I think to myself as their footsteps get closer. I can hear Mary-Margaret making introductions at the table behind mine, and it's only a matter of time. I'm a fucking coward, so I decide I can't deal with this and stand up, hoping to sneak off to my cabin before David or Mary-Margaret can see me. But of course, my wonderful friend chooses that exact moment to turn around, right as I'm standing up to walk away. I'm caught.

"Oh, good! Emma," she says, grabbing my shoulder to stop me from leaving, and I wince under the pressure of her fingernails. "I'd like you to meet our newest guest." Mary-Margaret tugs on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

"We've met," I say, cutting her off as I get a look at the woman I haven't seen in over two months.

"Miss Swan?" Regina asks, her eyes open in surprise.

"Hi," I reply, a false and uncomfortable smile on my face.

Fuck my life.

* * *

 **A/N:** I am so sorry for the delay in getting this posted! I got really caught up in writing my Christmas fic _Home for the Holidays_ (check it out if you haven't already!), and that turned out to be much longer fic than I intended (I expected it to be maybe 10k, but it's well over 30k and I still have an epilogue to write). I also had to get the Christmas chapter up for _A New Exploration_ done (my current _A Serendipitous Encounter_ verse fic) and so there are only so many hours in a day. This one got moved down in priority since it wasn't topically time-sensitive. But, I'm back! I promise I won't take quite so long to post the next chapter. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a fun and safe NYE. Here's a little New Year's Day treat for you, before we all go back to the realities of work tomorrow (or today, if you don't get today off). This is maybe the shortest update I've ever done in any fic, but I wanted to post something since I made you wait so long before the previous update. Since I'm still revising the chapter after this one, it was either wait several more days to combine them into one, or post a short bonus update today. This one has a natural ending point anyway, so splitting it into two just made sense :)

* * *

"Oh, good! You two know each other," Mary-Margaret says as she looks at me and then Regina.

The older brunette's lips are pulled into a tight smile. "We do," she confirms, looking at Mary-Margaret and then back toward me, but she refuses to meet my eyes.

"Yeah, she, uh, was my boss at Enchanted Education," I tell my friend, hoping that maybe if we just lay everything out we can get past the severe awkwardness of the situation.

"Oh," Mary-Margaret frowns as she looks between us once again.

Oh, it's awkward. So very awkward.

"So…" I continue, looking at Regina and hoping to push past the tension. "How are things in Chicago?"

"Things are good," she shrugs, which is a bizarre gesture coming from Regina. She is always so confident and put-together, so a nonchalant and common mannerism just looks wrong when she does it.

Mary-Margaret excuses herself to go check on some of the other families, leaving me alone with the woman who fired me. Awesome. At least when she was here I had a buffer.

I look around and notice Regina is by herself, which confuses me, because the math doesn't add up. Mary-Margaret had said there would be 15 guests checking in today, and with the last family to arrive and Regina, that only brings the guest list to 12. Clearly missing from the party are Robin and their two kids. Regina must notice the change in my expression, because she answers it with her own look of confusion. "Where's the rest of your brood?" I ask.

"Oh," she says, hesitating slightly as she crosses her arms and tilts her head as if she's cracking her neck. Her non-verbal signals are all so perplexing today. But, clearly I struck a nerve with my question. "Robin's sister just had surgery, so he and the boys went out to her place to help out for a few days while she recovers."

I don't know why, but I feel the need to ask more questions, even though I can sense her growing discomfort. Perhaps it's a weird form of payback for my termination. "And you didn't go with?"

"His sister and I have never gotten along. The last thing she wants is me hanging around while she's bedridden. Plus, we had already booked the cabin for the weekend and it's non-refundable, so I figured there's no sense in it going to waste," she explains.

"Ah, makes sense. Well, I hope his sister is okay."

"She'll live," Regina says, almost callously. "Excuse me, I'm going to go get something to eat."

"Of course," I nod as I step aside, letting her walk past me toward the grill, where David is flipping another batch of burgers.

 ***.*.***

As the evening goes on, things become even more uncomfortable, which I didn't think was possible. None of the other guests pick up on it, which is a good thing. This big welcome cookout is new for Mary-Margaret, and she's only doing it because so many new families arrived all at once. I don't want to ruin that by causing a scene with my former manager, or by bailing on the event all together, so I resign myself to sticking around but avoiding Regina at all costs. I'm trying my hardest to be friendly and social with the other families at the cookout, and generally make conversation with anyone who isn't the older brunette.

And it works, for the most part. I manage to avoid interacting with her again during dinner, and at times I become so engaged in conversation with other guests that I manage to forget she's even there, at least for a little while. But then I'll see her out of the corner of my eye, and then I'll remember and get frustrated all over again. Since arriving two months ago, I've almost completely forgotten about the events leading up to my abrupt departure from Chicago. I hadn't thought about Regina at all since coming up here, and seeing her pisses me off more than I expected it to. I should be used to dealing with her — after all, I worked for the woman for a year — but back then I had my work mask on and my guard up. Here, I'm comfortable and relaxed and completely unsuspecting, and then she showed up. I wasn't prepared for the bitterness seeing her brings out in me.

We all eventually relocate from the deck down to the fire pit closer to the lake, but still on the Nolan's personal property. David has started a bonfire, and I'm impressed by the height of the flames. It's clearly well-controlled, but it's still a little unnerving. "Emma, come sit by me!" I hear Ava, an eight year old girl who is here with her brother Nick and their parents, call out to me. I turn around and smile, and graciously sit down on the log next to her. Ava wants to be a writer when she grows up, so as soon as Mary-Margaret introduced me to their family, Ava has been asking me all kinds of questions. I don't mind, because it helps me pull my focus away from Regina.

After I finish my second s'more and take the last sip of my beer, I happen to see Regina in my peripheral vision. She seems stressed, not to mention alone, and she's been keeping to herself all night. She's not just avoiding me, which I would certainly understand, but she's not really talking to any of the other guests. There's some guy sitting on the next log over from her and talking incessantly — I think I remember his name being Sidney — and I can tell she's barely paying attention to him as he chatters away. Occasionally she'll nod or send him a forced smile, but I can tell she's miserable. And goddammit, it doesn't give me the satisfaction that I would have thought it would. I'm apparently too nice of a person to find joy in the pain of someone who screwed me over.

I watch her finish the beer in her hands, tilting her head back until it's empty and then setting it down upright on the ground next to her feet. I walk over to the cooler David has dragged over to the fire pit clearing and grab one for myself, along with a second beer. "Here," I say as I come to stand in front of her, holding the bottle by its neck in a sort of peace offering.

She looks up at me with a quizzical look in her eyes, almost as though she's trying to assess why I'm being nice to her. I know she thinks I should hate her — and I probably should — but I can't bring myself to. After what feels like minutes, she wraps her hand around the base of the bottle and says "thanks," a half smile on her lips. But, it's at least a genuine smile, so I'll take it.

I stand there awkwardly for another few seconds, debating whether I should return to my log and begin another in-depth discussion with Ava on the merits of the Harry Potter universe post-book seven, or if I should engage in conversation with the one person I've been purposely ignoring all night in hopes that maybe we can reach a point where the rest of the long weekend won't totally suck for both of us. Against my better judgement, I choose the latter.

I open my mouth to speak, but then pause, really observing the woman sitting in front of me. It's clear she doesn't want to be here, like she would rather be getting a pelvic exam at the gynecologist than be sitting out here by the campfire. She's wearing a simple black quarter zip fleece and dark grey leggings — not the plain cotton ones that regular people lounge in, because truthfully I doubt that she would ever own a pair of those, but those cute, overpriced Lululemon herringbone leggings that look like they're incredibly warm — and I'm completely shocked to see her in something so casual. Even when we were working late in her hotel room at the conference back in July, she was always dressed like she was ready to attend a business meeting at a moment's notice. I'm glad that she's at least making an effort to not be such an uptight bitch here…or, at least not dress like one. (She probably still is an uptight bitch, because a change of clothes isn't going to change her personality.)

"What?" Regina asks me, pausing with her beer partway to her lips as she looks up at me, the expression on her face reading equal parts confused and irritated.

I realize I must be staring, so I quickly drop my eyes to the ground before looking back up to meet her intimidating glare. _Shit, have her eyes always been that shade of brown? They remind me of a caramel mocha. Wait, where the hell did that come from?_ I shake my head to clear my very random thoughts. "Do you want to talk?" I timidly ask, correctly predicting that my offer would not be met with appreciation.

Her expression goes from that blend of confusion and irritation to just pure annoyance. "Why on Earth would you think I want to talk to you, Miss Swan?"

I roll my eyes. "Sorry, I just thought you looked like you might need to talk to someone. But, I should have known better…you're not one for talking. I'm more than happy to leave you alone. Enjoy your stay," I say, turning around and starting my walk back to Ava and her family.

I take four steps before a voice stops me. "Emma, wait."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, apparently I'm starting to enjoy leaving chapters on cliffhangers. Thanks for reading and reviewing! The next chapter will be twice as long and will be up later this week, and all will be revealed.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** See, I promised it wouldn't be too long before the next update! Here it is :)

* * *

I stop in my tracks and slowly turn around when I hear her sigh. After a few moments of awkward silence, she eventually says, "I'm sorry. I was rude, and I have no right to be."

I take the few steps back toward her until I'm standing in my previous position facing her. "You're right, you don't," I confirm, my own irritation not being masked in my tone.

She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just looks at her beer bottle and peels at the corner of the label. "You can sit down, if you want," she says, moving over just slightly on the log. There's plenty of room for two more people to sit on it, so she didn't really need to move at all. But, I find myself appreciating her intention, despite the fact that it sounded like it physically hurt her to say those words.

I nod as I take another step to sit down next to her, leaving plenty of space between us as I do. I take a large gulp of the beer still in my hands, knowing that I'll need it to help get through whatever confrontation is about to go down.

Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. Instead, we drink in silence and stare into the fire, which is still going strong. Now that the sun has completely set, the temperature has dropped another 15 degrees or so and a slight breeze is coming off the lake. The warmth of the fire is alluring, and if this whole situation wasn't so fucked up I would really be enjoying it. It's mesmerizing.

"I didn't want to fire you, you know," she eventually says, causing me to look over at her in disbelief. I'm surprised to find that she's looking at me, rather than down at the beer that she's been finding so interesting for the past ten minutes.

"What?" I manage to ask when I finally find my words.

She shrugs and looks back into the fire, taking a sip of her beer before she continues. "I never wanted to fire you. I actually liked you more than most of the other people on my team. You weren't kissing my ass all the time, and even though I know you hated the work, you did it well and didn't complain. But, the order came from Gold. Our office had to let two sales staff go, and as you were the most junior staffer with the least total number of sales, I had no choice. Despite Jefferson's insistence that I'm the 'Evil Queen'," she says, rolling her eyes at his nickname for her, "I really hate firing people. It's the worst part of my job."

I take in what she just said, not sure whether I'm more surprised by her revelation that she actually liked having me work for her, or that she seems to genuinely feel badly about firing me. "I have to admit, I find that a little hard to believe," I say softly, almost hoping she doesn't hear it.

"Why? You think I'm that much of a cold-hearted bitch?" she asks. She's clearly offended, but perhaps there's a hint of amusement in her voice.

I take a deep breath before I speak, hoping that what I say won't derail our conversation. "No, I don't think you're a cold-hearted bitch…" I start, but I lose my nerve partway through and stop mid-sentence.

She interrupts me anyway. "So, just a regular bitch, then?" This time there's definitely some amusement in her voice.

I chuckle. "Yeah. You certainly have your moments. But, I've also seen you be supportive of your staff. I think people just overlook those brief positive moments and focus on the negatives."

She nods, understanding my point. "I'm guessing you did, too."

"It's hard not to. I was completely blindsided when you fired me, and it seemed like it was just another everyday conversation to you — something on your task list for the day that you could check off. It made me immediately forget all the nice things you had done for me over the course of my year working there, and instead that was the only thing that mattered," I answer honestly. "It was like you were on autopilot and didn't give a shit that you literally fucked up my life in the matter of five minutes."

I chance a glance over to her and she has the good sense to look ashamed. "I know I didn't handle it well. I don't like having to answer to Gold and let him dictate my personnel decisions," she says. "That day, when you and Ruby saw me in the restaurant with Daniel and Gold and two of his assistants, that was his way of ensuring that Daniel and I would follow through on his orders. Daniel had to fire someone that day as well. It sucked for both of us, because neither of us wanted to, especially because the two other junior staffers who could have been let go instead were on Arthur's team. Those two girls suck at their job and are generally horrible human beings, but they are incredibly skilled at flirting their way to sales…so, despite Daniel and I arguing to try to keep you and Tiana and fire the other two instead, Gold insisted. And if we didn't follow through, then Daniel and I would be fired, or at least demoted."

"Wow," I reply. I knew there were politics at Enchanted Education, but I never realized Gold was running that tight of a ship from his cushy office in San Francisco.

"Yeah…and I'm sorry if I came across as cold and callous when I did it. It's the only way I can get through it without completely breaking down. I made it about two or three minutes after you left my office before the stress got to me and I lost it," she says, completely shocking me. She continues before I'm able to respond. "But, maybe it's a blessing in disguise…this isn't what you wanted to do anyway, Emma. In your performance review when I asked you where you saw yourself in five years, I could tell you didn't really want to be there. I remember your resume and your writing samples – you're not meant to suck up to college professors to try to get them to buy a newer edition of a textbook for their class. You should be doing more. I saw you on the flight to San Diego, you know, working on your writing…that's what you should be doing, not working as a textbook sales girl."

Well, that's not what I was expecting to hear from her. I didn't think that she even knew I wanted to be a writer. Aside from the formulaic questions on the interview sheet, she barely said two words to me during my interview for that position. I certainly didn't think that she even read my writing samples, especially because those weren't required for sales associates. I had only submitted them in hopes that they may consider me for an editor position, even though there weren't any vacancies posted.

"What brings you up here, anyway?" Regina asks, giving me an out, and I'm happy to take it. I'm not sure how to respond to everything she just said, but this I can answer.

"There wasn't anything in Chicago for me anymore, and I wasn't having much luck on the job front, so I figured I'd come up here for a few months, unplug, and really work on my writing. If I couldn't get a novel done in this amount of time, then I would give up, go back, and try to find a regular job. But I owed it to myself to really give it a chance," I say, surprised at how truthful I'm being with her.

Regina smiles sadly as she looks at me. "That's really admirable, Emma. It's like you're Thoreau."

I chuckle. "I wouldn't go that far, but that was kind of the idea. Seclusion, no distractions, getting back to basics."

"Well, I'm sorry I ruined that for you by showing up here."

"It's fine," I shrug. "I usually take one day a week to meet whoever else is here. I can't write 24/7 or I'll burn myself out. A little break here and there is a good thing."

"And how's it going? Making progress?"

"Yeah, actually. It's been more helpful than I anticipated. I have two-thirds of a draft done, and the rest is completely outlined."

"That's wonderful, Emma. I'm really happy to hear that," she says, and I can't help but think, _of course you are, because if I'm doing well it assuages your guilt for firing me_. I know she didn't have a choice, and she does seem sincerely apologetic about it, but I still can't help but have some residual bitterness. It'll take me some time to move past it. "What's your book about?" she asks.

"It's a dark, modern retelling of Snow White," I tell her. I don't need to mention that I'm loosely using her as a reference for the story's villain. There's a reason Jefferson gave her that nickname in the office.

"That sounds really intriguing. I've always been a fan of fairytales — the original Grimm versions, not the happy Disneyfied versions," she says.

"Me, too."

"So how long have you been up here?" she asks, and I'm a little thrown off by how genuinely interested she seems to be.

"A little over two months. I have about three weeks left, though Mary-Margaret is trying to convince me to stay longer."

"I bet. It's probably good for business to have all the guests keep extending their stay," she laughs for the first time since we've been talking, and it's nice to hear her be a little less serious. "How did you even find out about this place?"

"Mary-Margaret is actually a friend of mine from college. She was my pledge mom in our sorority," I say.

Regina nearly spits out her beer. "You were in a sorority?"

"Yes…why, is that really that hard to believe?"

"Kind of…you just don't strike me as the 'I want to live in a house with 30 other girls and braid our hair and talk about boys and be sisters for life' types. Mary-Margaret does, absolutely, but you don't," she explains.

"I didn't think so either, but my roommate convinced me to rush and then the next thing I know I'm standing with 24 other girls at the pledge ceremony. It was fun, though. I wasn't as involved as Mary-Margaret, but I enjoyed my experience," I say. "What about you?"

"Was I in a sorority?" she asks with a raised brow.

"Well, no, but sure, that, too. I meant how did you find out about this place? It's still relatively new, and I didn't think it would really be something that you would hear about in your social circle…I figured you guys were more into beach houses and Cape Cod than roughing it in the backwoods of Wisconsin."

Regina cringes for a second, but quickly recovers. "Actually, David's cousin Kathryn is a good friend of mine from grad school. She told me about this place when I said I was looking for somewhere to take the boys for the long weekend. And then when they couldn't come, she encouraged me to come anyway. She thought I could use the escape…clear my head," Regina says, sighing and returning to her earlier somber mood, peeling the label from her bottle of beer.

I sense there's more, so I toe the line. I'm cautious, but I want to know. "Escape from what?"

"The city, the chaos," she says before letting out a wry chuckle, "my life."

I frown at that. I know I'm out of the loop since I haven't been reading the news, but when I left two months ago things looked pretty great for Regina — she and Robin were still gracing the cover of the society pages, and Ruby had told me that a few days after I was fired, Regina got a promotion from her position as Vice President of our division to Senior Vice President. I'm sure that came with a nice increase in salary, and the raise they gave her was probably more than I was making in a year as a sales rep.

"My marriage is over," she continues, not looking up from the bottle in her hands.

"What?" I ask reflexively, barely even registering what she had just said, since my brain is still trying to figure out if by firing me, Gold basically redirected my salary to her.

"You were right, that night at the conference in San Diego, when you told me I was being stupid and you 'called me on my bullshit,' to use your words. I should have left him before he had the chance to leave me."

I'm still baffled. "So Robin and that college student in the photo…?"

"No, I was wrong about that. It wasn't Ivy, thank God. It was his campaign manager, Marian. But that just means it's been going on for far longer than I ever thought…and how cliché can you possibly get? The politician fooling around with his campaign manager? Ugh. It's only one step above him cheating with his secretary or the intern. It's like a bad Lifetime movie…so, take note for your future novels."

"Wow," I say, not really sure what more to add in this situation. "That sucks, I'm sorry."

"I mean, I should have seen it sooner. We hadn't slept together in over two years, and he gave up initiating sex a year before that."

 _Holy shit, two, almost three years,_ I think, but at least my brain filters that to "damn," when I speak out loud.

"Yeah," she continues. "I thought it was some midlife crisis thing, maybe he couldn't get it up, but no. He just wasn't attracted to me anymore," she says looking down at her left hand. It's then that I realize the giant diamond is gone, and I'm surprised I didn't notice that sooner. She used to flash that thing around, nearly blinding us as the fluorescent office lights bounced off of it. She still has the understated silver band on her finger, which I'm guessing she can't bring herself to remove just yet, but the overly flashy outward signal of her relationship with Robin is no longer there.

"Regina, he's an idiot. You're gorgeous. Anyone who isn't attracted to you is blind."

Even though the sun has long since set, I can still see Regina blush. She sits up straight as she clears her throat. "It's getting late. I should probably stop drinking and go to bed, since I came out here to relax and recharge and all that. I don't want to spend my first morning hungover."

"I don't blame you," I say, standing up and wiping my hands on my jeans before extending a hand toward Regina to help her up. When she accepts my assistance and puts her hand in mine, I feel a spark, but whether it's metaphorical or just static electricity, I can't be sure. "Do you know your way back to your cabin?" I ask, looking around us as I drop her hand now that she's standing. The bonfire is almost out, and only David and Mary-Margaret remain, cuddled together under a flannel blanket. All the other guests have retreated to the safety of their cabins for the night.

Regina hesitates. "I think so."

"Come on, I'll walk you," I say as I roll my eyes, turning to throw my empty bottle in the recycling bin. I wave goodnight to Mary-Margaret and David and then gesture for Regina to follow me back toward the trail.

"I can find my way back, Miss Swan," Regina grumbles as she picks up her lone overnight bag from the ground and throws it over her shoulder.

"Emma," I correct her.

She rolls her eyes. "I can find my way back, _Emma._ "

"I'm sure you can, but the last thing the Nolans need is for one of their guests to get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear, so you're stuck with my accompaniment."

"Are there really bears out here?" she asks, her eyes widening in alarm.

I shrug. "I have no idea…probably not. There are definitely coyotes, though."

"Huh," is all she says as she walks behind me, careful of her footing as we make our way along the wooded trail.

Her cabin is the halfway point between Mary-Margaret's house and my own cabin, so it only takes us five minutes or so at a leisurely pace to arrive. "Here you are," I say as we walk up to the front door. Regina sets her bag down unceremoniously on the porch as she digs the keys out of her pocket. "Goodnight, Regina," I say when I see her put the key in the doorknob. "I hope you enjoy your weekend here and find the clarity you're looking for."

"Thank you, Emma," she says sincerely, reaching out and taking my right hand that is hanging by my side, lightly squeezing it in gratitude. She hesitates for a moment, and then she leans in to kiss my cheek. "Goodnight. Don't get eaten by a coyote on your walk back to your cabin."

"I'll try my best," I manage to say, confused by what just happened. Before I can say anything else, the brunette has unlocked her door and stepped inside, sending me a small smile before she closes the door behind her.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm being nice and not leaving it on a cliffhanger this time. But, I have to admit I kind of enjoy all the squirmy reviews I got in response to the last few cliffhangers, so I may have to incorporate more in the remaining chapters of this fic ;)


	11. Chapter 11

_She's straight._

 _She was your boss._

 _She fired you._

 _(But, she also kind of confessed that she believes in your work and that firing you was an act of kindness, you know, silver linings and all that)...okay, maybe I'm extrapolating a bit too much on that point._

 _Oh, but she's hot._

 _And she hasn't had sex in almost three years._

 _But the point is, she's straight._

 _It was just a kiss on the cheek. Rich socialites like her do that all the time. It's not a big deal to her. You're making too much of this._

 _She's straight. She's not interested in you._

 _…But, she did seem a bit jealous when that Fiona girl was hitting on you…_

 _But , no, she flat out told you that she doesn't sleep with women when you were at the conference in San Diego._

 _Or, doth the lady protest too much?_

 _No, she's definitely straight._

 _And she's going through the mess of what will likely be a very public divorce._

 _And she was your boss._

 _And she's straight._

And yet, no matter how much I repeat those thoughts to myself on the short walk from Regina's cabin to mine, I can't get the woman out of my head. Of all the women in the world, of all the guests who have come to stay at 'Chez Nolan,' why the hell does it have to be _her_?

"Goddammit," I sigh as I walk back into my cabin, slamming the door behind me so loudly that a book falls off the shelf next to it. I don't bother picking it up, and instead I collapse on the living room loveseat, too tired yet also too anxiety-filled to crawl up the ladder to the sleeping loft. Only a few seconds pass before I give up. "I need a drink."

 ***.*.***

I awake the next morning to a loud smacking noise on my window. "Stupid birds. That's a window, not clear air," I mutter as I force myself to a seated position and remember that I never made it up to my bed last night. I'm still on the loveseat, which explains why my neck and back are protesting every movement. This glorified bench was not meant to be slept on. As my eyes adjust to the bright morning light, I can feel the dryness in my mouth and the pounding in my head. Yep, definitely hungover. I would have been fine if I left it at the handful of beers I had at the bonfire, but no. As my brain wakes up, I remember the internal conversation I had last night after walking Regina back to her cabin, and the open bottle of bourbon and empty rocks glass on the coffee table confirm that I may have overdone it.

I also realize that I'm in the same clothes that I wore last night, since apparently I was too lazy to change when I got back, so I quickly put on my University of Iowa sweatshirt and a clean pair of leggings before heading off to the Nolan's main house. I know that Mary-Margaret will be making a large pancake breakfast for the new guests, and I have every intention of using some of those carbs to help dispel my hangover.

"I need aspirin," I say as I walk through the side door to their house, heading immediately toward the cabinet in their kitchen where they keep all their medication.

"Good morning to you, too, Emma," David chuckles as he puts on another pot of coffee. "Rough night?"

"Mmhmm," I say, grabbing a glass and filling it partway with water before knocking back two small white pills. "I may have overdone it."

"Does it have anything to do with our newest guest?" he asks with a raised brow.

"You're as bad as your wife, you know that?" I retort, helping myself to some of the coffee from the previous batch.

"You two looked cozy, that's all I'm saying."

I laugh, as though the thought is ridiculous, because it is. I had this conversation with myself last night. "It was uncomfortable, is what is was," I say. "She's the last person I expected to turn up here."

"Who, Regina?" Mary-Margaret says, coming into the kitchen with Neal on her hip.

"Yeah. I certainly didn't think I would be seeing my former boss here."

"You seemed to clear the air last night though, did you not?" Mary-Margaret asks.

I shrug. "Yeah, for the most part. It's fine."

The brunette seems to pick up on my desire to not speak any more of the topic, and for once she decides not to push it, and quickly changes the subject. "I assume you're here to steal some breakfast?"

"Of course I am. Nothing tops your pancakes," I smile.

"I know. All the more reason for you to stay with us a little longer…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I told you I'd give it some thought…and I will, once I clear my head from the shock of Regina showing up here."

"Fair enough," she says as she places a stack of pancakes onto a plate. "Since you're here for the free food, why don't you make yourself useful and take these outside? The guests should be coming up soon, and since it's unseasonably warm this morning I thought we would eat breakfast outside instead of in the converted barn."

"Sound good," I say, picking up the platter of pancakes and carrying them outside to the deck. There's already a station for coffee and orange juice set up, and a large vat of crispy bacon. David follows shortly after, bringing out a large tray of scrambled eggs. "You guys are really going all out this time."

"Well, we have a lot of guests. We need to make it a memorable experience so they'll tell all their friends about us," he winks as he sets it down, heading over to the grill to check on the sausages.

Over the next few minutes, some of the guests I met last night start to stagger over, rubbing the sleep from their eyes as they grab their plates and load up on their breakfast. I notice that most are still in pajamas, clearly not used to waking up this early on a weekend. I wasn't either initially, but since coming to the cabin I've basically been getting up with the sun each day, even when I have a raging hangover.

I try to distract myself with more conversations with Ava about her favorite books and writers, but I can't help but keep an eye out for that one particular guest who has yet to make an appearance. Ava and her family quickly finish their breakfast and say their goodbyes as they head off to get a jumpstart on their day, and I'm left alone with my thoughts.

"Mind if I join you?" I hear from behind me. I turn around and see the chestnut eyes looking at me, her unpainted lips in a subtle smirk. I've never seen her without a full face of makeup, but she's barely wearing any today and she's stunning.

I smile back. "Go right ahead."

"Any exciting plans for today?" Regina asks me as she sits down and dives into her short stack of pancakes, quietly moaning as she takes her first bite. "Oh my God," she says. "These are amazing."

I try to clamp down on the visceral reaction I have to the sounds coming from her lips. It's so not an appropriate line of thoughts for the breakfast table, or at all, for that matter. _She's straight, and she fired you_ , I remind myself. "Yes, Mary-Margaret is an amazing cook, especially breakfast foods. And all baked goods," I say after taking a calming breath. "And nothing too exciting, no. I want to get a little writing done this morning, especially since I took so much time off yesterday with the cookout. Of course, this will need to happen once my headache subsides and I can look at my screen without wincing again."

She raises a brow. "You had like two beers last night. Are you really that much of a lightweight?"

"It was three," I correct, "and no, I'm not. But, I may have changed to bourbon when I got back to my cabin last night…couldn't sleep."

"Me, neither," Regina confesses. "I'm not always the best at sleeping my first night in new places, especially not alone. You'd think I would have been used to it by now, given how many 'late nights' Robin worked. I think I was already asleep more often than not by the time he got home. I imagine that was all by design on his part."

I send her a sad smile. "How long ago did you guys officially separate?"

"Almost two months," she says, pausing her bite of bacon to twirl the band on her finger, the only thing remaining of her marriage. "The divorce will be final next weekend. It's finally starting to sink in and feel real."

 ***.*.***

I spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon writing, while David takes some of the families — Regina included — out on a trail hike, touring the vast forest around the Nolan's property. I'm surprised that I'm actually able to get some work done, without thoughts of the brunette plaguing my mind (for better or worse). Before he departed for his role as tour guide, David convinced me to meet up with him and some of the guests in the mid-afternoon for some paddle boat racing. I had politely declined, but he basically told me that without my participation, the teams won't be even and someone will be stuck sitting out or at a disadvantage trying to do it on their own. Well, I can't let that happen.

So, now I'm waiting for David and the rest of the folks down by the lake, thankful that the temperature has continued to climb a bit throughout the afternoon, so it's now a comfortable 70-some degrees. It's certainly not bikini weather, but it won't be too cold to enjoy the lake, and if we capsize, the risk of hypothermia is quite low. "There she is!" I hear behind me, and I turn to face David's smiling face as he walks up to me, with seven of the visitors behind him.

"How was your hike?" I ask as he motions for me to follow him toward the edge of the lake.

"It was great! Saw quite a few deer," he says as he turns his attention to the rest of the group and gestures behind him to the paddle boats docked nearby. "Alright, everyone, you each need to grab a lifejacket from that trunk over there, and then find a partner for your boat. Once everyone is ready, you'll race from one edge of the lake to the other, and then back. The first team to hit the shoreline by me is the winner.

"And what does the winner get?" a voice asks. Not just any voice — Regina. I don't have to see her to know she's quirking a brow and biting back a skeptical smirk.

"Pride and respect," David answers. "And perhaps a slice of Mary-Margaret's apple pie that she baked earlier today, assuming I don't eat it all first. Now," he continues, "once everyone has their partner and their lifejacket, I'll give a brief tutorial on how to steer the boat, and then we'll get started. The lake isn't too deep here, but do please keep your lifejacket on at all times. Should anyone fall overboard, stay calm and I'll come and rescue you," he says, pointing to his jet ski that's stationed just next to the boats. "Okay, go get yourselves ready and then meet me back here." He dismisses us to go grab our safety gear and select a partner, and obviously everyone is paired up with their family members or significant others, leaving Regina and me to partner up since we're both single. Great.

"Well, I suppose I should have seen this coming," Regina says as we walk over to the trunk full of neon yellow and fire engine red life jackets.

"You can always back out…I really wouldn't mind. David guilt-tripped me into doing this anyway," I reply.

"It's fine. I was kidding," she says, selecting a red vest and throwing it on over her long sleeve spandex running shirt. "I have no problem being paired up with you for this, as long as you're good."

"I'm decent," I say as we walk back to where David is standing. Our conversation stops as we watch his demonstration and listen to his instructions about what to do and what not to do.

"Alright, to your boats!" he says, and Regina immediately heads for the purple boat.

"The color of royalty, of course," I comment as I carefully step into the boat first, and then hold it steady as she climbs in next to me.

"Actually, I just heard that annoying whiny bitch over there tell her boyfriend she wanted this one, so I wanted to take it from her. She's been pissing me off all morning, complaining about birds, dirt, bugs, and the weather, so I wanted to give her something else to add to that list," she says with a glint in her eye.

"Even better," I laugh as we get ourselves situated and slowly make our way to the starting line.

David announces the start of the race and we immediately start peddling. The couple on Regina's shitlist manages to go around in circles, as the "whiny bitch" doesn't seem to understand that she can't just sit there and do nothing. It's pretty clear that everyone else sucks almost just as badly, so without even trying Regina and I pull out ahead of the others and make our way toward the opposite side of the lake. As we traverse the course, Regina tells me about her morning hike. "Oh," she says, after she finishes telling me about the hike itself. "David mentioned that my friend Kathryn, his cousin, is coming up to visit on Monday afternoon, so he's trying to get me to extend my stay as well so I can see her. I haven't seen her in a few years, since she lives in St. Louis."

"Oh," I say, trying not to get my hopes up that Regina might stay a little longer. Despite my best efforts to hate her, I actually find myself enjoying her company. "Are you going to?"

"I wish I could," she says earnestly as we arrive at the opposite side of the lake and prepare to turn ourselves around to head back. We're maintaining a leisurely pace, but we're still at least 20 feet ahead of the second place team. "But I have to be back for a big work meeting Tuesday afternoon."

"Ah," I say. "That's unfortunate."

Regina shrugs as she looks over her shoulder. "Okay, the next team is gaining on us. Should we actually try now and finish this?"

I smile back. "Let's go for it."

We put a little more effort into or peddling and pick up speed, easily reaching the shoreline before any of the other teams. David calls the race and congratulates us through the megaphone he must have acquired at some point after starting the race, declaring us the winners with a grin on his face.

"I love the water," Regina comments as we step back onto dry land.

"Then in that case, meet me at my cabin after dinner," I tell her.

"What? Why?"

"I have something to show you."

"Okay…" Regina says skeptically. "You're not going to take me somewhere to drown me for firing you, are you?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course not. If I wanted to kill you I would've let you get eaten by a bear last night. But, I'm not that vindictive."

"I better not regret this."

"You won't. Just be at my cabin by 6."

* * *

 **A/N:** Originally this and the next chapter were going to be one longer chapter, but I decided to split it up because I know how you all just *love* my semi-cliffhangers :). But mostly, I wanted to get this posted and the rest of it isn't quite ready yet (I fell behind this week because the semester started for teaching, working, and my phd, and I was fostering a dog for the first time ever so basically my entire life was devoted to the pup and making sure she wouldn't pee on my floor lol). She was adopted yesterday to her forever home, so I have my life back :)


	12. Chapter 12

"Want to see something awesome?" I ask, holding up a set of keys as I step out onto my cabin's porch after hearing Regina knock on my door. It's a pleasant 62 degrees, according to the thermometer hanging from the roof just above the door, and I notice that Regina has changed into a pair of jeans, a black and white flannel shirt, and a grey tweed puffer vest. She's certainly embracing her new woodsy surroundings, looking like she walked out of a fashion blogger's camping-themed Pinterest board.

"What is it?" Regina asks, still clearly skeptical of the mystery I have planned.

"Follow me and find out," I say, closing the door behind me and stepping out onto the path. As we walk, we make casual conversation. She apologizes, yet again, for firing me before telling me about the hell that is Enchanted Education, revealing things to me that she would never tell a current employee, namely that the company is a mess and she hates it. After she finishes her diatribe, I tell her a bit more about Mary-Margaret's offer to let me stay with her for free after my initial three-month stay is done.

"Are you going to do it?" Regina asks, shuffling some leaves out of her way with her LL Bean boots as we continue walking.

"I don't know," I answer with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm considering it. It's not like I have anything that I need to be back in Chicago for right away. Another month or so up here wouldn't hurt, especially since I'd have to pay rent if I went back to Chicago."

We continue chatting as I lead her about fifteen minutes down the trail to a hidden part of the property. "He keeps it out here so people won't know about it and ask to use it," I say as we approach my target.

"Who keeps what hidden?"

I grin as I lead her to a clearing with a view of the harbor and a gorgeous Riviera M3600 Sport Yacht. "David's pride and joy," I say, gesturing to the magnificent vessel in front of us before jogging toward it.

"Wait…are you seriously stealing his boat right now?" Regina asks as she trudges after me toward the dock.

"Borrowing it, not stealing it. You said you love the water, so come on."

"Jesus…Do you even know how to drive this thing?" Regina asks as she takes the hand I've extended and climbs aboard.

"I do," I confirm, steadying her as she stands up. "Before they died, my parents used to rent a lake house in Lake Geneva every summer, not too far from here. My dad taught me how to pilot a boat back then. We started small and then worked our way up to bigger vessels like this one. David's let me drive this one a few times since I've been up here. But, we don't even need to go anywhere. The view of the sunset from the dock is fantastic, and I just figured it might be nice to have a change in scenery and get away from the screaming children and sappy loving couples for a night. Besides," I say as I set my backpack down on the table in the saloon, "I probably shouldn't drive this thing after drinking this." I pull a bottle chardonnay out of my bag, along with two beers. "I would have brought more, but this is all I could steal from Mary-Margaret's fridge without her noticing. I think there are probably a few beers in the galley fridge, though, if we need it. David tends to keep it well-stocked."

Regina picks up the bottle of wine and runs her fingers over the label. "Emma, this is a $60 bottle of chardonnay. She's going to notice it's missing."

I frown at that — I had no idea it was a good bottle— but I just shrug. "Well, she's making bank off all of us this weekend, and she's been putting me to work, so she can part with it."

"She's going to rescind her offer to let you stay in her house rent-free next month if you keep this up," Regina says, grabbing the bottle opener to take out the cork.

"You seem to be awfully eager to start drinking the stolen goods for someone who is trying to scold me for petty theft."

"Well, the crime's already been committed, so it would be a waste to not drink it," she smiles as she pulls the cork from the bottle with a pop.

 ***.*.***

"God, that is good chardonnay," Regina comments as she takes the bottle from me. I couldn't find any wine glasses on the boat earlier, so we're just drinking straight from the bottle like the classy women we are.

"See? It's just what you needed. This weekend is supposed to be about you relaxing and forgetting about that bastard you were married to, right? Enjoy it."

"Mhmm," Regina closes her eyes as she watches the last bit of sun disappear below the horizon. We're sprawled out on the two couches in the ship's saloon, looking out toward the West with our unobstructed view of the water.

I take the bottle back and raises it in a mock toast. "To your newfound singledom…may you take full advantage of it."

"I'll drink to that," Regina says, gesturing for me to return the bottle so she can do just that.

"Has it really been almost three years since you've gotten laid? Please tell me as soon as you kicked his sorry ass out you went and found some hot guy to bang." _Wow, I can't believe I just said that_ , I think almost immediately after the words tumble from my lips. The wine must be hitting me more quickly than I expected.

Regina scrunches her face. "Don't be so crass. I do not 'bang' anyone…at least not in the last three years. I've outgrown the one night stand phase. Well, if we're being honest, I never really went through it. Robin and I started dating my sophomore year and got married a year after we graduated from college, so I kind of missed that window of opportunity. I think 37 is a bit late for picking up a new hobby."

I chuckle. "It's never too late. You have, what, 17 years' worth of wild oats to sow? We need to find you a guy at the campsite when we get back tonight."

Regina looks disgusted and offended by my statement. "First, no we don't. And second, there aren't any. All of them are here with their girlfriends or wives."

"Well, that's not true. That Sidney guy at the bonfire last night seemed quite into you. I'm sure he could be persuaded with minimal effort. He looks like the type who would be very eager to please," I say, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

"Gross," she shudders at the thought. "No thanks."

"Okay, fine. But seriously, three years. I thought my eight months was a long time."

Regina raises a brow as she passes the bottle back to me. "Wow, a whole eight months? How in heaven's name did you manage to get by?" she asks sarcastically, adopting a fake southern accent (and a quite poor one, at that).

I pick up a throw pillow from behind me and toss it at her, which the brunette catches just before it hits her in the face. "The same way you have for the last three years, I assume. A lot of self-love. They make some great vibrators these days."

Regina laughs. "God, Robin would have been so offended if I had one of those."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Mhmm. He would think it's a threat to his manhood."

"Even though he wasn't sleeping with you? God, what a prick."

"I hate that word," she says, "but yep. He is."

"Sorry…when I drink sometimes my rural Iowan comes out. But seriously, you don't have one? Please tell me you haven't been deprived of orgasms for the past three years."

Regina is clearly buzzed enough that she isn't offended by my blunt statement. "I make it work."

"That's not really an answer, but okay," I say.

She shrugs and winks at me. "I'm good with my hands."

I can feel myself blushing, but I'm hoping it will appear like it's just a side effect from the wine. "Be that as it may, perhaps instead of breaking and entering into David's yacht, we should have gone down to the sex shop and bought you a new friend."

Regina laughs. "Is it breaking and entering when you have the keys?"

"Now who's justifying this little slightly-less-than-legal adventure?"

"Fair. But seriously, this tiny Podunk town has a sex shop?"

"You'd be surprised. Even rural townsfolk need to get some. It's a bit of a hike, but it's drivable. I passed it on my way up here."

"Interesting," she says, looking as though she's almost considering it.

"Or if you don't want to drive an hour roundtrip, you can borrow mine."

"You brought a vibrator with you to go camping in the woods?"

"Uh, yeah…I'm here for three months, and I'm staying off the internet, not watching TV, and not using my phone for anything other than an occasional text. What else am I supposed to do when I'm not writing and can't sleep? It's not like I brought a bunch of them. Just a small bullet. It's discrete and washable. You're welcome to it."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself, but if you change your mind…"

"I know where your cabin is."

 ***.*.***

"Regina, I was kidding," I say as we stand on the yacht's foredeck, staring out into the water. The sun has set, so there's nothing but darkness ahead. If it weren't for the reflection of the moon in the lake, I wouldn't know where the water ends and the sky begins. "You don't have to do this. I don't want you to regret it tomorrow."

"I've waited long enough, Miss Swan, this is something I should have done two months ago…hell, I should have done it two years ago," she says, steely determination in her eyes.

"So we're back to 'Miss Swan'?"

"We are when you're being stupid," she says, her voice clearly giving away her buzzed state of mind. "Now, shut up. I have a job to do."

"Okay, as long as you're sure. You can always sleep on it and do this tomorrow when you haven't been drinking."

"Did I not just tell you to shut up?" she looks at me with exasperation. "And I'm more than sure," she says, a smirk forming on her lips as she looks down at her left hand, tugging off the wedding ring on her finger.

I say nothing as I watch her perform whatever ritual she's going through in her head. She looks down at the silver band that's now in her right palm, using her fingers to turn it over several times before she clenches her fist around it. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and then she's throwing it as far as she can into the lake, letting out a sound that's a mix between a groan, a scream, and a laugh as she does, watching the ripples as it sinks below the surface a good 30 feet in front of us. I try not to notice the one tear that escapes her eye, and she quickly brushes away, an action which immediately sobers both of us.

"How do you feel?" I ask, hoping for a positive answer as she steps back from the railing. After all, it was my drunken suggestion that she should chuck the thing in the water as a symbolic closure of her doomed marriage.

"Free," she says, a smile forming on her lips as I breathe out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Emma, for bringing me up here. I needed it."

"You're very welcome, Regina," I say before turning to head back into the saloon to pack up so we can head back to the main campgrounds.

"Emma…" she says, reaching for my wrist before I can take a step.

"Yeah?" I ask, turning around and looking at her fingers wrapped around my wrist before back up at her. There's an intensity in her eyes that I haven't seen before — but also a vulnerability — as her eyes search mine. It's then that I feel her tug on my hand slightly, drawing me closer to her as she pulls me into a hug.

"I mean it, thank you," she says quietly, almost in a whisper, into my ear. Both of her arms are tightly wrapped behind my neck, making no effort to loosen. I expect any minute now to feel tears on my shoulder, but I never do…somehow, she's managing to suppress them.

"Anytime," I say, squeezing my own arms that are wrapped around her lower back a little tighter before I let go of her, and I can't help but notice the faint scent of apples from her shampoo as her hair brushes against my nose. She shifts back slightly, releasing me from her grip as she looks at me once again. I barely have time to register that her gaze has shifted from my eyes to my lips before her mouth is on mine.

* * *

 **A/N:** As promised, I didn't want to wait too long to update so you could find out what Emma had planned...but I definitely don't think the night went how she expected it to! And it's not over yet... sorry not sorry for ending it there! But it's about time that the slowburn finally kicked it up a notch, eh? I hope you enjoyed!

And for any readers of my Christmas fic _Home for the Holidays_ , I've finally been working on an epilogue and it should be up within the next few days, so keep your eyes peeled for that. As soon as that wraps up I'm also starting a magical realism AU SQ fic, so if you're into magical fics that take place outside of Fairytale Land and outside of Storybrooke, I hope you'll try that one out too. This fic will be wrapping up soon as well...I have a few different ideas for where to end it, but all of the options I'm toying with will wrap within another 3-5 chapters...or at least I think it will. Now that the slowburn portion is over, things will progress quickly as we move toward the conclusion of the story.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Sorry this is a few days late! The flu has hit my office and like half of the people are down for the count. I've managed to avoid it so far (knock on wood/I'm glad I got my shot this year), but that means I've been having an extra-heavy workload with so many folks out of commission. Most nights after work this week I was either still working to help prevent things from falling behind, or I was too exhausted to do anything. But, here it is! This is a super short chapter to wrap up the cliffhanger from the last one. It was either keep this short and post it today, or make it longer by combining it with the next chapter, but that would push the update back by another week and I didn't want to do that to you. (Plus the next update will be the next day, so it doesn't make sense to combine them). So, short but sweet it is!

* * *

Her lips are soft against mine, tasting of leftover chardonnay and beer. It's an odd combination, but not at all unpleasant considering it's what we've both been drinking all night, and somehow it tastes even sweeter on her. I instinctively lean into the kiss and bring my hand up to cup her cheek as she wraps her arms around my shoulders once again. I feel her tongue graze my lips, asking for entrance, and that causes my head to immediately clear. "Regina, no," I say as the reality of the situation hits me and I pull back, taking the arms clasped around my neck and pushing them away. "You're drunk, and emotional, and this has bad idea written all over it."

She looks offended. "I'm not drunk — I'm tipsy at best. And I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, so what are you doing?"

"You said so yourself. I have some wild oats to sow. Just because there aren't any attractive single men at the campsite doesn't mean I can't still take your advice and have a little fun," she says with a smirk.

"Uh yeah, Regina, when I said that, I sure as hell didn't mean me," I say.

"Why not? You said you haven't had sex in eight months, and I know you've thought about me in that way…Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been staring at me for the past year. I'm hot, you're hot, so again I ask, why not?"

 _Jesus, she thinks I'm hot? No, focus Emma._ "Because you're straight! I've done the sleeping with a drunk horny straight girl thing, and trust me, it never ends well for either of us. I'm never doing that to myself again."

"Well, maybe I'm not totally straight," she says, stepping toward me and reaching for my hand, but I pull away before she can reach me.

"What?" I ask, making sure to maintain some distance between us.

"I mean, I don't know," she huffs, her flirting giving way to pure frustration. "All I know is that was more enjoyable than any kiss I ever had with Robin," she confesses, immediately becoming embarrassed. "Fuck."

"Regina…" my voice relaxes from defensiveness to concern as I try not to fixate on the part she said about this being her best kiss in years.

"No, you know what? Fuck you, Emma. Nevermind," she says, pushing past me and walking back into the saloon of the yacht and shoving her feet back into her boots that she had previously discarded on the floor.

I run a hand through my hair as I watch her tying her boots, haphazardly knotting the laces as she rushes through the action. I take a step toward her, "Regina, hang on a second."

She looks up for a half second before resuming her task. "No, I don't want your pity."

"What? I'm not pitying you at all," I say. "I just think we should talk about this with a clear mind."

"There's nothing to talk about. Just, let's forget it ever happened, okay?" she asks, her eyes pleading with mine to let it go.

"Okay, fine," I relent. "I take it you want to head back?"

"Yeah, I think that would be best."

"Okay," I say, stepping aside and gesturing toward the door to the saloon, never expecting that this is how our evening would end. "After you."

 ***.*.***

 _God, this is awkward_. _So, so awkward,_ I think with each step I take, the leaves crunching under my feet.

We walk back toward our cabins in complete silence. No small talk, no mention of anything that has happened tonight. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. And it's certainly not a comfortable silence, but instead the kind that makes me itchy, has me starting to open my mouth to say something before I immediately clam up and stop myself before any sound comes out. I hope she doesn't notice, because I probably look ridiculous with my jaw moving around like a fish.

We get to my cabin first, since hers is still a few minutes down the road. I wordlessly take out my key, unlocking the front door and pushing it open. As I take a step inside, I hear a voice behind me. "Emma…" she says so quietly that I barely hear her. I pause and turn around, and even though the sun had long since set and the night around us is dark, I can see her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment under the lone dim porch light above my cabin door. "I'm sorry," she says, glancing away as soon as she speaks.

"It's fine," I reassure her. "You don't need to apologize, Regina."

"No, I do," she says, finding her resolve and meeting my eyes. "I shouldn't have kissed you. And even though I'm not your boss anymore, I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"It's fine, Regina," I say again. "I have no complaints about the kiss itself," I can't help but smirk. It certainly had been unexpected, but it didn't suck. The circumstances around it do, but the kiss itself had been freaking fantastic. But, I'm not about to tell her that and make this even more complicated and awkward.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know what I'm doing," she says, bringing her hands to her forehead and running them over her eyes. "Oh God, what is wrong with me?" she asks as she takes a step back, stepping down off the small porch and begins to pace, bringing one hand to her hip.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Regina. Far from it," I say, leaning against the door frame and watching her pace. I consider approaching her, but I get the sense that she needs to keep moving and walk off some of her anxiety.

"No, there totally is," she says. "If you hadn't stopped it, I probably would have slept with you, so I guess I should thank you for having the good judgment that I didn't."

"Yeah, I'm a real saint," I chuckle.

She gives me a look of irritation before she continues. "I've never had random meaningless sex with anyone. I mean, I've never even slept with anyone except—" she shakes her head. "I wouldn't even know how to handle that. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You probably weren't," I shrug, noticing that she's paused her pacing. "Look, Regina," I say, pushing myself off the doorjamb and taking a seat on the edge of the porch. "Sit," I suggest, scooting over to make room for her, hoping it might help her calm down. She looks hesitant but acquiesces, sitting down next to me, leaving a good six inches between us. "You're stressed, it's been an emotional day for you — hell, it sounds like it's been an emotional few months for you — and you're feeling…" I pause.

"Horny. You can say it," she chuckles dryly.

"Okay, you're feeling horny," I say. "Yeah, you might not be thinking super clearly at the moment, but you're entitled to make some stupid decisions."

She rolls her eyes and rests her chin in one of her hands, picking up a stray stick from the ground with the other and drawing patterns in the dirt. "I feel like an idiot."

"You shouldn't," I say reflexively. "Seriously, Regina, chill. It was an ill-advised kiss, and it's not like I wasn't into it at first, until I thought better of it."

"Really?" she asks.

I nod. "Uh, yeah. I did kiss you back until my brain caught up with my mouth."

She blushes at that. "Right. Well, I'm still sorry. Will you accept my apology?" she asks, and my heart breaks when I see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"Of course, Regina," I say, placing my hand on her knee and gently squeezing it in support, and then immediately bringing my hand back. "We're good."

"Okay, thanks," she says. "I'm going to head back to my cabin. Thank you for tonight. I really did have a nice time, all things considered, and it was exactly what I needed."

"I'm glad," I grin back at her. "You know your way back to your cabin?"

"Yes. I promise I won't get eaten by any bears or coyotes or whatever," she laughs.

"Okay," I say standing up from the bench, offering my hand to her to help pull her up. "Goodnight, Regina."

She smiles and tugs me closer, pulling me into a hug that I was expecting to be uncomfortable, but actually feels really nice. "Goodnight, Emma." She bows her head slightly as she backs away, turning around and walking down the path toward her cabin, leaving me to watch her walk away and still trying to reconcile what the hell happened tonight.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this mini-chapter! I promise the next one will be longer/back to normal length :)


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay! I ended up getting the flu that all my coworkers had (brutal), and the epilogue for my holiday story I had been determined to finish ended up becoming a massive, nearly 20k word 3-parter, so that took up a lot of time. But, I'm recovering and the epilogue has been posted on that fic, so I'm back! As promised, this is longer than the last mini-chapter. It was actually going to be twice this long, but I decided to split it in two since the second half I wrote this afternoon and haven't been able to fully edit it yet. I wanted to get something up for you guys anyway, and since each part was close to 3k words and could stand on its own, I liked dividing them. Plus, I know you love/hate my mini-cliffhangers, why not split the chapter in two so I can leave you with one? Enjoy ;)

* * *

I don't see Regina until nearly one o'clock the next day.

At first I think she's just been avoiding me all morning, and that we'll be back to square one and all awkward again. But when she meanders over to the picnic area to help herself to what's left over from the lunch spread, I'm no longer worried about her avoiding me. No, now I'm worried that she might be dying. (Okay, maybe that's a bit hyperbolic, but really, she looks like shit.)

"Regina? You okay?" I ask her as she walks past me, completely oblivious to my presence. Her hair clearly hasn't been brushed, her makeup from last night is smudged on her face, and she's wearing the same clothes as she had on last night. If I had to venture a guess, she never took them off. She looks like the walk of shame, except a lot less happy than anyone who has ever taken that well-known walk typically looks.

"Huh? Did you say something?" she looks at me, her eyes struggling to focus.

"Sit," I command, scooting over on the bench to make room for her. When she just stares at me in response, I reiterate: "Now."

She acquiesces, sets her plate down on the table hard enough for it to rattle and plops herself down ungracefully, completely contrary to the refined posture and poise she's always upheld in meetings at work. This weekend is a lesson in cognitive dissonance when it comes to this woman.

As she sits, she stares at her plate with a look of discomfort on her face. When she notices that I'm staring at her, she mumbles a quick "good morning," barely looking at me before returning her focus to her lunch. (Well, from the looks of things, I'm guessing for her it might be breakfast). She pokes the pasta salad with her fork before she contorts her lips, as though she doesn't know what it is.

"Regina," I say, legitimately growing concerned.

"What?" she deadpans, still staring at the plate.

"Are you stoned?" I ask, because it's the only thing that would remotely make sense. I've seen my fair share of people coming down from bad trips after rough nights out, and they had more of their faculties in place than Regina seems to this morning.

She shrugs. "No."

"Are you sure about that?" I ask incredulously. "Because you're looking at your plate as if you expect it to start talking to you."

She pushes the plate away from her and opts to drink her can of Diet Coke instead. "Just a bit hungover."

"A bit? Regina…"

"Okay, a lot."

"I've seen you drink way more than we did last night, and you've never been like this. What the hell?" Not only should she not be this hungover from the bottle of chardonnay we split and a beer each, but we also were back to our respective cabins before nine o'clock. Even if she had been hungover, she shouldn't still be this late in the day. There's something else going on.

"I had more when I got back," is all she offers.

I narrow my eyes. "How much more?"

"Just one of the airplane bottles of vodka I brought with me. Not much at all."

I still sense there's something else going on, because 50 milliliters of vodka shouldn't cause her to be this out of it. "And…?"

"And a benzo."

Bingo. There it is.

And shit, that's bad. I don't want to lecture her, because I know that won't help anything, but that's a dangerous combination. "Regina, what the fuck?" Okay, I can't help but lecture her a little bit. "What the hell were you thinking? That could kill you."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Oh, relax. Not the dose I took."

Her nonchalance is irritating me, because despite her attitude about it, this is a serious situation.

She must be able to read the abject horror on my face, because her demeanor changes instantly, as much as it can given that she is legitimately stoned and hungover. "Emma, seriously, it's fine. I've had some anxiety recently with work and my personal life, and sometimes it manifests as insomnia. My therapist gave me a prescription for Ativan to take when I have trouble sleeping. After spending 2 hours staring at that stupid ceiling fan of the log cabin, I took one. Normally I try not to take them on nights where I've had more than a drink or two, and usually I wait a little longer if I do. It's just amplifying my hangover a bit more than usual and messing with my stomach. But seriously, I'm fine. I just need some more caffeine and some more sleep, and it'll wear off."

I look at her skeptically, but say nothing more than "Okay," as I finish what's left of my lunch. We sit in silence for the duration of the meal, and I notice that at least now she's actually eating what she put on her plate. Maybe her drug-induced hangover is finally subsiding.

 ***.*.***

"Emma!" David shouts as he runs out of the garage of the main house.

"Yes?" I turn around, smiling innocently.

He holds up a set of keys, dangling them from his fingers as he briskly walks to catch up to me. "Care to explain to me what these are?"

"Uh, those are keys."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Yes, I know. I meant, care to explain why I just saw you sneaking out of my garage, and why these keys were on the hook second from the left instead of second from the right?"

 _Shit_. I couldn't remember which hook I took them off of the night before, so I took a guess when I put them back. Apparently, I guessed wrong. "How should I know? They're yours."

"You're right, they are mine," he says. "And I always put them back in the correct spot," he says, attempting to scold me. But, his face reads more amused than angry. "And I know there are no other guests here who know the access code to the garage or about the existence of the yacht that these belong to," he says, jiggling the keys in front of my face.

I swat his hand away. "Have you asked your wife?" I raise an eyebrow, deciding to screw with him a little longer, even though I know I'm busted. After I had finished that awkward lunch with Regina, I snuck into the Nolans' garage to return the keys to the yacht I "borrowed" last night. I thought David was taking a group of kids out fishing on the lake this afternoon, so I would be in the clear. But, I guess they haven't left yet.

"I didn't have to, because right before I saw you sneaking out of the garage, Mary-Margaret discovered a bottle of her favorite wine is missing from our fridge." By this point, he can barely keep a straight face. "So, Emma, do I need to call the cops and report a case of petty larceny and grand theft watercraft?"

"I'll give you the petty larceny for the wine, but I didn't steal your yacht…it is still parked exactly where you left it," I smile.

"So, you really didn't take my boat?" He furrows his brows in confusion.

"No, I did not _take_ your boat. It hasn't been out of the dock as far as I know," I answer honestly. He still looks confused, and I don't want him to burst a blood vessel thinking too hard. Sometimes I can't understand how someone smart enough to make it through veterinary school can be so dense. "I know better than to operate a vessel while drinking, David. I merely borrowed your boat's saloon and deck for a bit."

"Oh," he nods his head in understanding, before smirking. "And I imagine you probably weren't alone for this little adventure last night?"

I chuckle and can feel my cheeks heating up.

"Do I need to wash the sheets in the stateroom or call and have the leather upholstery cleaned?" He wrinkles his face at that thought. "If I do, you're paying for it."

"Don't be gross," I scoff. "And, no, you don't."

He laughs as he puts the keys in his pocket. "So, you and Regina?" he asks knowingly, but I shake my head.

"No, it's not like that with us," I say.

He must see some disappointment on my face, because he follows up with, "but you want it to be?"

"I…I don't know. Can we not talk about it? It's all very confusing right now," I sigh.

He cuts me a break and nods his head. "Of course."

I send him a grateful smile as I turn to walk back toward my cabin.

"…But, you owe Mary-Margaret $75 for that wine," he calls out after me.

"What?" I ask, spinning around. "Regina said it's a $60 bottle."

"Consider it your fine for the theft," he grins.

I narrow my eyes and flip him off before returning down the path into the woods, calling "Charge it to my tab," over my shoulder.

 ***.*.***

After spending a productive few hours writing in the afternoon, (I'm so close to having a finished draft I can taste it), I decide to head out for some more fresh air. It's around four in the afternoon, so I figure I'll spend a half hour taking a break, work a little more on the novel, and then take part in the big cookout tonight before returning to my cabin to get some more work done. It's the last night of the weekend, as tomorrow is Columbus Day and most of the visitors will be heading back home tomorrow afternoon so they can return to work and school on Tuesday. I think I'm the only one who will be staying past the extended weekend, although David and Mary-Margaret have become quite popular and have a handful of new visitors coming up later this week, so I won't be the only guest for long.

Instead of heading toward the main area like I usually do, instead I decide to head toward a park-like clearing on the edge of the property line, as I hear voices and laughing coming from that direction. I've spent the past three hours by myself, so it'll be nice to have a conversation with someone other than the characters in my book. As I approach the field, I see that David has fixed the volleyball net that had fallen down during a storm last month, and a few of the kids from the visiting families are eagerly playing. Their mothers are sitting along the sidelines of the makeshift volleyball court, and surprisingly, Regina is with them. I take a deep breath as I walk up to the group, asking them if they mind if I join.

"Not at all. Have a seat," one of the women says to me, motioning to the empty spot on the log she's sitting on, which happens to be on the other side of Regina.

"Thanks," I smile, catching Regina's eye and silently asking permission. She shrugs, so I sit down.

The women continue chatting with Regina, and I answer some of the small-talk questions they ask me. But otherwise, I pay more attention to the volleyball game than the women around me, as they seem to be talking about how to pick a good private high school in the city and topics that are completely irrelevant and of no interest to me. I also hear Victoria Belfry, one of the women say, "Oh, Regina, I was sorry to hear that you and Alderman Locksley split up." The woman is obnoxious and has more money than anyone could possibly ever need. Between Victoria and her husband, they seem to own half of Chicago. I don't even need to look at Regina to know that she had tensed up at the statement, but she handles it like a pro, muttering a _thanks, but these things happen_ to the woman before changing the subject.

Eventually their conversation dies down, and it's time to head back to the main house for the cookout. "Regina, would you like to join our family for dinner?" Victoria asks as we stand up. She walks right past me without even looking in my direction. Clearly, I'm beneath her.

I watch as Regina considers the offer, and I recognize her expression immediately — it's one I often saw when she was trying to come up with a way to politely disagree with one of the other executives at Enchanted Education. There was a lot of male fragility among the senior staff there, and most couldn't handle being bested by a woman. Regina had somehow figured out a way to insult them without letting them realize that she had. She's brilliant. And now, I can tell Regina is trying to find a way out of it, but she doesn't want to insult the wealthy socialite. Surprisingly, she seems to be drawing a blank, so I offer her an out. "Actually, Regina, don't forget that Mary-Margaret wanted you to join us for dinner tonight so she could pick your brain."

"Oh, that's right," Regina says, exhaling and playing along. "I almost forgot."

Victoria is skeptical, as she's clearly not the kind of woman who is used to having someone turn down her offers. "What could a B&B owner possibly need from a high-powered career woman like Ms. Mills-Locksley?" the bitch asks me.

"Actually, it's just Mills now," Regina corrects.

"Really? You're going to drop your husband's name?" Victoria asks, astonished. "But he's so well-known."

"Yes, he is. And most recently, he's well known for being a philanderer. I don't really need that constant reminder everywhere I go," she says.

"Interesting," is all that Victoria says. She continues to look at us, expecting an answer to her other question.

"Mary-Margaret wanted to run a marketing idea for the B&B by Regina," I offer. It seems plausible, since Regina runs one of the sales divisions of a successful company.

"Hmm," Victoria purses her lips, studying us before turning around, the squad of mothers she's acquired as her flock for the weekend following her as she heads back to camp.

"Thank you for that," Regina whispers to me as we slowly walk behind them.

"No problem," I laugh, taking my phone out of my back pocket.

"What are you doing? I thought you unplugged the entire time you're here?" Regina asks, nodding to the device in my hands.

"Oh, I did. I am. I disabled all the social media and shit on here. But I'm not stupid, Regina. I'm still a young single female spending a lot of time alone in the woods. I keep it with me for emergencies."

"Ah, smart," she says. "And what's this emergency?"

"I'm texting Mary-Margaret to let her know that she needs to eat with us tonight. Even though there's less than 24 hours left before everyone parts ways, I have a feeling we don't want to get on that bitch's bad side."

"No, we definitely do not," Regina laughs as we walk back. "Emma…" she starts when I put my phone back in my pocket.

"Hmm?"

"Now that I've sobered up after this morning," she sadly chuckles, "I think we should talk about last night…"

"We already did, last night on my porch. Or do you not remember that?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes. "No, I remember that. But there's still something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Now?" I ask her, surprised. We're only 20 feet away from the cookout, and this is really not a conversation to be had in front of Mary-Margaret. Frankly, it's a conversation I would prefer to avoid all together.

She shakes her head. "No, not now…later. I'm not planning on attending the event they have planned after dinner tonight, so I was thinking I might just watch a movie. If you want to stop my cabin for a bit, you're welcome to. Or, if you're going to the Capture the Flag tournament thing, I can stop by and we can find some time to talk."

"Oh," I say, slowing down my pace as we approach the line to get our food. "Um, sure. I was planning on spending most of the night writing, so I can drop by." I hope I don't regret this. I almost suggest that she should come to my cabin instead, but I like the idea of being able to leave if it gets awkward again, so I agree to it. "What time?"

"I don't know…maybe an hour after dinner? I'd like to shower off the nature walk I had this afternoon, and that'll give me time to check on a few work things. As much as I would have loved to unplug this weekend, I can't completely."

"Okay," I say as I nod my head and take a plate, loading it up with macaroni and cheese. I can't help but wonder what I'm getting myself into.

* * *

 **A/N:** Up next: Emma visits Regina's cabin and they have a heart-to-heart. The next chapter will be up by the weekend, since it's already written and just needs editing. For anyone following _A New Exploration_ , I know it's been 3+ weeks since I've updated, and I'll be working on the next chapter for that this week as well and will post it as soon as it's ready.

Also, I'm sad about OUAT being cancelled, but I'm not all that surprised, and truthfully I think it was time. (And maybe this is too soon, but I really hope this frees up Lana to do that Swingtown musical movie thing she mentioned at a con. Or maybe Netflix will revive Swingtown. I would kill for that). I have every intention to continue writing and reading things in the fandom, so I hope you all will, too. We can keep these characters alive :)

Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

As promised, I knock on Regina's door about an hour after getting back from dinner. I had hoped to get some writing done, but I was too anxious about having this conversation, so instead I ended up going on a short walk around the lake to clear my head. It didn't help.

I hear her walking around on the other side of the door, and I take a deep breath as she opens it. She looks smaller than usual, and I realize it's because she's completely barefoot, and I'm still not used to seeing her without heels. But mostly I'm distracted by the fact that she is in a big, fluffy terrycloth robe, and nothing else. Her hair is curly and still wet from the shower she had mentioned she wanted to take, and she's using her free hand to towel-dry her hair. I'm temporarily stunned into silence, but I force myself to blink and snap myself out of it. "Sorry, I can come back in a few minutes…"

"No, please, come in. I'm just running a little behind. Help yourself to anything in the fridge if you want, or take a seat on the couch. I'll be right out," she says, moving out of the way so I can enter her cabin. I nod as she escapes to the small full bathroom off the living room, closing the door behind her as the smell of her apple shampoo trails behind.

As much as I'd like a beer to help with this uncomfortable situation, I know I should stay sober for it, so I go and sit on the black leather couch in the living room. I haven't been inside this cabin before, and it's so much bigger than I expected from the outside. There's a spacious kitchen, a living area, and two bedrooms — one off the living room, and one off the kitchen.

Regina returns a moment later, grabbing a bottle of water for herself out of the fridge before coming back into the living room. "Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?" she asks me.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks," I say as I look at her, relieved that she's no longer in a robe and glad to see that she's opting for water instead of liquor. As she sits down on the opposite end of the couch, I notice that she's drowning in a grey oversized Stanford crewneck sweatshirt and red and white flannel pajama pants, which also bear the Stanford name down the side of the left pant leg.

"Sorry about that," she says, alluding to her state of undress when I arrived. "I wasn't paying attention to the time, and I was afraid if I took the time to change before I opened the door, you might leave." She delicately twists her wrist to open the bottle of water, taking a long sip in the silence between us. She swallows audibly before clearing her throat. "Listen, Emma, I wanted to that I'm sorry—"

"You already did last night, Regina," I remind her, cutting her off. I don't particularly want to rehash that awkward situation, and I can't believe she would want to, either. "I already told you that it's fine."

"Actually, that's not what I was going to say," she continues. "I was going to apologize for my behavior at breakfast this morning…well, lunch, technically. It was completely unprofessional, and frankly inappropriate, for me to show up that hungover, especially with kids around. I'm a mother and should know better than that. And really, I shouldn't have even let myself get to that state of intoxication anyway. It was a bad call, and I could tell that you were uncomfortable this morning, so I wanted to apologize."

"Oh," I say. That was not at all what I was expecting. "It's not that I was uncomfortable, Regina. I was just concerned. I've never seen you like that, and it's not like we got wasted last night, so I was surprised by it. I just wanted to make sure you're okay," I say sincerely.

"I am…after this morning it's safe to say I will not be mixing my anxiety sleeping drugs with alcohol ever again. I was a mess before I came down for lunch. This morning was hell."

I scrunch my nose, knowing exactly what she's implying. "Okay, so then why did you do it in the first place?"

She looks taken aback by my question. "I told you, I couldn't sleep."

"No, I know," I say, turning my body to face her more on the couch. "But why did you keep drinking when you came back here? I thought you were fine where we left things last night."

"Oh," she sighs, setting down the bottle of water on the coffee table and tucking one of her knees up to her chest as she repositions herself on the sofa. "I was. I appreciate everything you said last night, but when I got back my brain wouldn't shut off. I kept overanalyzing everything…not just the actual kiss, but everything that it might mean in the broader sense."

I have a feeling I may come to regret what I'm about to say, but I can't help myself — I'm curious. "What do you mean?"

"It's just…I don't know," she says, resting her right arm on the back of the couch and using it to prop her head up. "Mainly, I'm just confused. I mean, yeah, I'm depressed about my divorce, as I should be. It sucks to be cheated on, especially for that long and knowing that everyone knows about it now. But that's the part I'm hurt about, more so than losing Robin. I think I mentioned this last night, but he's really the only person I've ever been with, because we met when we were young college kids. And I loved him. But over the past few years, something shifted. We started drifting apart, valuing different things, wanting different lives for ourselves. He has these grand political ambitions to become the mayor of Chicago, or the governor or a senator. I knew he wanted to be involved in politics when we got serious about our relationship at the end of college, but I never wanted to be the wife of a politician as a full-time job, which is what he expects now. I'm nowhere near ready to give up my career — I'm not even 40 yet. So when I found out about his affair, I wasn't even mad about losing him. I was upset about the betrayal, because that's what hurt. And I was upset for our kids and what the divorce will do to them. But as bad as it sounds, I don't miss him. I know I should, but I don't. I think I checked out of our marriage a long time ago without even realizing it, and I wasn't even sure why that might be…until now."

She pauses, and I'm tempted to say something, but I have nothing to offer her and her situation, so I keep my mouth shut. I expect she wants to continue talking anyway now that she's on a roll, and she does within a few seconds, after taking another drink of water.

"So, as stupid as it may have been, last night was the first time I've felt alive in years…the first time I've felt something for someone. But I was a bit drunk, and you're a woman, and… I don't even know. So by the time I got back here last night, I was having a full-on existential crisis that called for vodka. And then when that didn't quiet my mind enough to sleep after a few hours of lying awake in bed, I needed the Ativan."

"Hmm," I hum quietly. "Can I ask you something?" I ask, and when she nods, I continue. "When you say that it was the first time you've felt alive in years, do you think it was just the circumstances? We had been talking about sowing your wild oats and finding someone to get you off, so is it just the idea that maybe did it for you? The excitement of something new and somewhat forbidden after being with the same guy for so long?"

"Are you sure you're not a shrink?" she asks, a smirk on her face.

"I minored in psychology and worked as a receptionist for a therapist in college," I reply.

"I remember. I did read your resume, you know." She chuckles and shakes her head. "And you may be right, but I've done my fair share of stupid shit in college and grad school, even when I was dating Robin. I don't think it was just that."

"Oh. Well, was last night the first time you've ever kissed another woman?"

Her cheeks become a little pink at my question, but she shakes her head again. "No. Like I said, I had plenty of wild nights in college. I was with Robin at the time, but he and his frat brothers liked to get drunk, and get my friends and me drunk, and then get us to make out with each other while they watched. Typical immature college shit. It never went further than that, though. But, you're the first woman I've kissed as a single, relatively-sober adult," she answers. "And this wasn't like the rush that the wild college nights were. This felt different, which is why I panicked. I mean, who starts questioning their sexuality at my age? I should have this figured out by now."

"I see." I can't say that I blame her for how she reacted, then, if she's seriously questioning her sexual identity. I truly thought that she had just been drunk and horny and looking for something that would make a good story over brunch with her elitist girlfriends, like an "oh, you'll never believe what I did on my little cabin excursion," thing. If she's actually questioning such a big part of who she is, I totally get it. I remember when I started realizing I might be gay when I was a sophomore in high school. I couldn't figure out why I didn't seem to be interested in the guys at school, or why all my friends seemed to love making out with their boyfriends, yet I couldn't stand kissing the few guys I had gone out on dates with. I had just thought that maybe they were exceptionally bad kissers, until I was at a party and dared to kiss one of my gorgeous friends. She wasn't a particularly skilled kisser, either. (I mean, who was? We were 16. No one is good at that age). But, it felt so much different than it did with the random guys. It felt right, and that's when I knew. Maybe last night was that kind of catalyst for Regina, just twenty years later in her life than it was for me.

"Yeah," she sighs, bringing me out of my memories. "So, I have no idea what to do about everything I'm feeling. I know it's not the best idea, but part of me….nevermind," she blushes.

"No, what were you going to say? Part of you what?" I press.

She unconsciously bites her lip and looks away from me as she contemplates whether to answer. "Part of me thinks that I should explore this, you know?"

"Regina, if you're starting to feel like you might be interested in women, then you should explore that. You owe it to yourself to figure it out. Speaking as someone who has gone through it and spent years denying who I was because I thought I was supposed to be attracted to guys, it doesn't do you any good to ignore how you're feeling. Believe me."

"Well, no, I get that," she says. "I know it's not a particularly constructive solution, but what I was originally going to say is that part of me wants to just do it to find out if I am gay or bi or whatever I may be…and then at least I'll know. I love being in a relationship, but I would feel weird trying to go through the whole rigmarole of trying to find a woman to date, only to later realize that I'm not actually sexually attracted to women. I can't imagine there are many 30 or 40-something lesbians who are looking for a relationship and are willing to take a chance on someone who may not actually be into women, and I don't want to lead someone on. I feel like before I pursue dating, I need to at least know that I am actually interested, and that this isn't just some midlife crisis that won't actually lead anywhere."

I shrug. "You're probably right. If a woman is only looking for a serious relationship, she probably wouldn't be interested in dating someone who isn't sure she's attracted to women in that way, knowing that there's a good chance it may never lead anywhere. But, there are plenty of women who would be open to a one night stand, if that's what you're after. There are entire apps devoted to that purpose. Hell, I can go get my phone and we can find someone to make that happen for you tonight, if you want. I don't think anyone who looks like you will have much trouble making that happen."

She smiles shyly before quietly saying, "No, that's not what I want." She puts her head in her hands and sighs. "God, I'm such a mess."

"Okay, so what do you want?"

She mumbles something that I can't understand, her hands muffling the sound of her voice.

"I'm sorry, I did not get any of that," I say.

"You."

Well, shit. "I'm sorry?" I squeak out.

"You heard me," she mumbles, refusing to look at me.

"Fuck," I say under my breath. This cannot be happening. But really, I shouldn't be surprised based on the last 24 hours. But seriously, what the hell?

"All I'm asking for is one night, just to get it out of my system, or to test a theory…however you want to look at it," she exhales, finally looking at me before she jumps off the couch and starts pacing manically. "Look, I know you said you don't sleep with straight women, and I get that, and I respect that. I really do, so I wouldn't be asking you if I had a better idea. I know this is ridiculously complicated, and like I said, it's probably not a productive way to handle things, but I don't know what else to do, Emma. And if I'm going to make a stupid decision, I'd rather it be with you."

"Gee, thanks," I say, looking up at her.

"No, I just mean…you know my situation, so I can be honest with you and don't have to make up some story about why I'm looking for one night of sex. And I don't think I would regret it with you, no matter what happens next. If I went and got drunk and had a one night stand with some random woman at a lesbian bar or from one of your apps or whatever, no matter whether I decide that I'm bi or straight afterward, I know I would still regret it. I'm not the kind of person who has meaningless sex with random people I don't know, and even if I am actually gay, I'm still not a person who will hookup with random people. I honestly don't think I could ever do that, as much as I wish I could right now. I'm someone who needs to at least feel something for the person I'm with. I've already told you that Robin's the only person I've been with, but I haven't felt anything for him in years…not really. And I feel something for you, and it's scary and it's exciting. I like you, Emma, you're a good friend, and I trust you…I wouldn't regret sleeping with you, even if I realize that this is nothing more than a crush and some early midlife crisis-induced fantasy thing."

"Regina…" I sigh, trying to steady my breathing and hating that my body seems to be wanting to give in to her request.

"And I know that's not fair to you. I don't know how you feel about me, other than I know you've had a crush on me, too," she continues. I'm about to interrupt her, but she beats me to it. "And don't even try to deny it."

She's right — I can't, so I shut my mouth.

"So, if this is more than a crush for you, or you're afraid this would end up hurting you somehow, then I don't' want to do it, because I don't want to do that to you. But, if you're at all interested…if there was any part of you last night that enjoyed the kiss and would be interested in doing more, just for one night and no strings attached, no consequences, no hard feelings afterward even if it's horrendously bad, know that I'm willing…and more than that, I would be grateful. Think of it as helping out a friend."

Well, that's a lot of pressure. Part of me is screaming, _Do it, you fucking dumbass. This is what you've had fantasies about for the better part of a year._ But a big part of me also sees nothing but flashing red warning lights telling me to run back to my cabin, lock the door, and not come back out until she leaves to go back to Chicago tomorrow afternoon.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry, another cliffhanger! Will they or won't they? Has Regina finally caused Emma to stop being so noble? lol.

Tbh I'm not sure when I'll get the next chapter up. It's outlined, but not written yet, and this week is a little crazy with work. I'll do my best to have it ready for next weekend, but it might be a little longer than that. (You know I won't leave you hanging too long).

And thanks for the reviews last chapter! FFnet glitched again and they all disappeared for awhile/when I tried to reply from the link in my email notification, it told me they couldn't be found. But, I think I eventually was able to respond to everyone after they reappeared a few days later. If I accidentally missed yours, I'm sorry, and thank you for reviewing!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Hi all! I'm so sorry for the delay. I'm finally over that flu (yay!) but things have been crazy at work and phd'ing. Plus, this story is rapidly coming to an end, and I kind of lost my inspiration a bit (I think mainly because I'm not ready for it to be done, so I've been procrastinating. If I don't write, then it won't be over). My apologies for making you wait so long to find out how Emma responds to Regina's proposal, but hopefully you'll like it. Enjoy!

* * *

"Helping out a friend?" I repeat incredulously, standing up to face her. She has stopped her pacing, but I quickly start walking around the living room myself. "This isn't like asking me to drive you to the airport, Regina. You're asking me to fuck you."

"Yes, I do realize what I'm asking you to do," she says, her cheeks continuing to redden.

I'm so tempted to ask for a drink after all, but I know that would be ill-advised. I need a clear head. "You can't just spring something like that on me. Even if I was open to it, which is a big _if_ , it's not like an on-demand service, Regina. Did you really think I would just drop down on my knees and go down on you? I'm not a whore." Immediately after I say it, I regret it. I didn't intend to be that crass about it, but who can blame me? I'm still in shock at her request.

"No, of course not, and that's not—" she sighs. "You know what? Nevermind. Can we please forget I even asked? It's humiliating."

I see her cringe and I know her mind is a mess right now, even more than mine is. "Regina, you have no reason to feel embarrassed. You've always been a strong woman who asks for what she wants. I admired you for that every day when I worked for you," I say. She blushes again, but I get the sense it's for a different reason. "And I'm not saying no…I'm just…" I pause, genuinely not knowing what I'm saying. "I'm not going to lie and say I haven't thought about you like that, because you're hot, and you were my boss, so there's that whole powerplay things…" I'm getting off track and need to rein it in. "But this is not the conversation I expected to have when you asked me to come by. I'm kind of blindsided."

"I get that," she says, "and I'm sorry I put you in this position. Look, if you want to leave, I'd completely understand. But, it's my last night here and I just want to chill, so if you want to watch a movie or something, you're welcome to stay. We can take the offer off the table for tonight. I promise I won't try anything, and nothing will happen. You can think about it and get back to me."

"You make it sound like a business proposal," I comment.

"Well, that does seem appropriate given our relationship," she tries to joke. "But seriously, I didn't expect anything to happen tonight. I just wanted to throw it out there as an idea while we were both here and before I lost my nerve. It's not like you won't eventually be coming back to Chicago once you're done up here…you can think about it, and then when you get back to Chicago, if you decide you're interested, you know how to find me." With that, she sits back down on the couch, turning her attention toward the small television in the corner and reaching for the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

I stare at her in disbelief at how quickly she's completely changed the topic. It takes me a minute, but eventually I shrug and sit down on the other end of the sofa.

 ***.*.***

It's almost two hours later and we're nearing the end of the two-hour _The L Word_ pilot episode on Netflix. She had asked if I cared what we watched, and when I said no, this is what she chose. I shouldn't have been so indifferent. I should have picked a good movie…a safe movie. It's not that I dislike the show — quite the contrary. It helped me a lot back in the day. I was in high school when it aired, and I remember sneakily watching it in my bedroom after my parents went to bed. Bette Porter was my first major crush, and the show helped me realize who I am. But, I keep trying to forget about Regina's proposal, and her choice of television show is not helping matters. The show is far from perfect, but God, it's hot, especially when it's been eight months since I last had sex. Regina had said she wanted to watch something lesbian-themed, because maybe that would help her figure things out. I obliged, and I'm now regretting that decision.

"Do you mind if I grab something to drink?" I ask, as I know a particularly sexy scene is coming up, and it's making me feel like an awkward teenager the first time I watched an R-rated movie with an explicit sex scene with my parents.

"Of course not. Help yourself," Regina says, her eyes glued to the screen as Jenny finally gives into her attraction to the seductive Marina and they begin to divest each other of their clothing.

"Want anything?" I ask as I walk toward the kitchen, just as Marina crawls on top of Jenny on the television.

She calls back, "Nope, I'm good."

I eye the beverage selection in the fridge — a few bottles of water, a half empty bottle of chardonnay, and a few bottles of 312 beer. "Fuck it," I mutter to myself as I grab a beer out of the fridge. I deserve a drink after the craziness of this evening, and one beer won't cloud my judgment when it comes to Regina. To her credit, she hasn't said anything more about her offer. We haven't really said anything much to each other, honestly, because she's been so focused on the TV.

I listen for the scene change after Jenny's first lesbian sexual experience and then make my way back into the living room, setting the beer bottle down on the end table while pretending like I don't know exactly what happened during my absence in the kitchen just as Jenny crawls back into bed with her boyfriend Tim on screen.

Regina smiles shyly as I sit back down on my end of the couch, quickly looking back at the television. I know another scene is coming up, but I can't justify leaving again without making it obvious what I'm doing, so I brace myself. I can't help but look over to her as the episode begins to draw to a close with a particularly steamy scene between Bette and Tina. She watches with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and noticeably shifts in her seat as the action lights up on screen.

She catches me staring at her and I look away, reaching for my beer. She then stares at me for a second as I bring the bottle to my lips to take a sip. "What?" I ask her.

"…Nothing," she says hesitantly before setting her gaze back to the television.

"You sure about that?"

"It's just…maybe this wasn't a good idea. It's just making me even more curious."

"Isn't that a good thing? If it's helping clarify things for you? I mean, one of three things was going to happen. You were either going to be disinterested in it and realize that you're totally straight, nothing would happen and you would still be left wondering, or you were going to get turned on by it and your curiosity would grow," I point out.

"I guess," she shrugs. "I was kind of hoping it would be the first, though. It would be so much simpler."

"Yeah…but I know straight women who are into lesbian porn, so if this does something for you, that doesn't necessarily mean you're a lesbian or bi. It just means you think it's hot..."

"It's not just the sex. It's their relationships. Their closeness and love for each other…and the sex. It seems like there's just something so wonderful about it."

"That makes sense. You said you're not into one night stands or random, meaningless sex. So, I'm guessing you don't like porn that doesn't have a plot and backstory, am I right?"

"I've never actually watched anything…" she mumbles.

I nearly spit out my beer. "Wait, seriously? Never?"

"Robin was into it, but it never appealed to me. At all. It's so misogynistic and gross."

"Maybe the shit he watched," I say. "There's some really tastefully erotic stuff out there. A lot of it is made by women for women, even."

She blushes. "I'll take your word for it."

I shake my head as I redirect my attention back to the television, as the aftermath of Jenny's exploits with Marina and Bette and Tina's reunion sex seem like safer territory.

We continue watching the final scene of the episode, and a few minutes later she speaks up again. "Is it different? With women?" she asks quietly.

"Sex?" I ask, to which she nods. "I would imagine so, but I've known I was a lesbian since I was 15, Regina. I haven't had sex with a man. I made out with a few in high school, but that's as far as it ever went."

"Is this accurate?" she asks, flinging her hand toward the television screen, referring to the scenes she just watched.

"For some people," I say. "It depends on who you're with. There are a lot of different types of sex depicted on this show, and it's overdramatic. It's different for everyone, just as I imagine straight sex probably is."

"I feel like Jenny," she says with a quiet sigh. "I have no idea what's going on with me. I'm so confused."

I chuckle in understanding as I finish my beer. "I imagine you probably do feel like her. But, let's hope you take a different path than dear Jenny Schecter does."

"What? Why?"

"If you keep watching the series until the end, you'll see what I mean. But, honestly, I've always seen you more as the Bette type. Career-driven, no-nonsense, determined. But also passionate, loyal, hot as fuck, and fierce as hell," I state honestly.

"Really?" she smirks.

"Mmhmm," I nod.

"And what about you? Who are you in this little microcosmic reality? Are you a Shane?"

"God no," I laugh. "If I was, I would have already had sex with you. I've dated a few Shanes though…or rather I slept with them. They weren't really the dating type. I don't know if I fit into any of their archetypes. Jenny is a writer, but that's the extent of what we have in common, fortunately. Maybe Tina? I don't know," I reply honestly. I've never really thought about it before.

"Interesting," she says as she takes a sip of water, emptying her bottle. "Are you up for watching another one? I want to know what happens."

I glance at my watch and note that it's only 9:30p.m. I have time. "Sure."

 ***.*.***

In the morning, the sun beaming through the window makes me close my eyes even tighter as I groan. But, my groggy brain is protesting, knowing that something is off. _Wait. This isn't right. This hasn't ever happened before. Why is it so bright?_ The sun hasn't ever woken me up since I've been here, because my cabin is hidden beneath a heavily wooded area of the property, not to mention all the windows face West. The only time my cabin gets this bright would be a little after high noon, and it can't be that late, can it? I couldn't have slept that long.

As my brain begins to process my disoriented thoughts, I crack one eye open to let my vision adjust to the light, and I notice that I am not in my cabin. _Shit. Did I fall asleep here last night?_

It's then that I hear the grumble next to me and feel her softly kick my shin as she rolls over to face the other direction. _Oh, right_. For a moment I thought it was all a dream, (and a very good dream at that), but no, that actually happened. The memories of last night come flooding back to me in pieces as I stare up at the ceiling.

As we started our fourth episode last night, Regina finally had let herself have a glass of wine, switching from the water she had been drinking due to her intoxication the night before. I had similarly allowed myself a second (and then a third) beer. I had hardly been drunk, buzzed at best, but it did relax me enough to stop my mind from fixating on what she had proposed earlier in the evening. That had probably been my mistake. It was sometime in the middle of the fifth episode when we both got up to grab snacks, a little before midnight. We had been giggling like school kids about something ridiculous that happened in the show, although I don't even remember what it was now, and when the laughter had stopped, there had been this intense moment between us. To be honest, I don't know who made the first move, but the next thing I knew she had me pressed against the edge of the counter and my hands were gripping her ass to pull her closer to me. My brain had basically short-circuited, and I remember asking her if she was serious about her earlier proposal, to which she had furiously nodded and mumbled "bedroom" as she started walking us in that direction, her lips never leaving mine.

It was stupid. Or, it was probably really stupid. It's hard to say, because we haven't faced the consequences yet. But, she had said if she was going to make a stupid mistake she would rather it be with me, and apparently after three drinks over several hours (so really, I can't blame it on that, since the alcohol barely affected me), I had agreed with her. We had stumbled into the main bedroom of her cabin, haphazardly ridding each other of our clothing as we went until we were both in just our bras and underwear. (Thank God mine at least matched and weren't hideous — just my usual basic black, but of course she favored black lace and a thong, even in the wilderness. A bit impractical, but I'm not complaining.). I think she could sense my hesitation, so she had taken the lead and quickly removed the last of her clothing and sat down on the bed, barely giving me time to appreciate the sight before she had been grabbing my hand and pulling me on top of her nude form.

She may have never been with a woman before, but her skills were impressive. As she kissed me, she had managed to expertly unhook my bra without me even noticing, pulling the straps from my shoulders and pushing me up just enough to remove it the rest of the way when it got caught around my wrists, before pulling me back down to her. Her lips had moved along my neck and jaw, slowly progressing toward my ear. It was then that she had whispered "Please, Emma," as she took my hand in hers and moved it down her body. Any second thoughts I may have been having had completely vanished at the sound of her seductive voice saying, "Fuck me."

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur, but I had been more than willing to oblige her requests, multiple times if I'm remembering correctly. After all, I had figured if she wanted to see what being with a woman is like, I should give her the full experience. The night had been about her, and I had rebuffed her offer to return the favor, not wanting her to rush into anything more than she was truly ready for. But, it's not like it sucked for me. Until last night I hadn't had sex in over eight months, so much to my embarrassment, she barely had to touch me for me to get off.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts of last night, and I risk a glance over at my bed companion as I decide what I should do next. Regina is facing the opposite wall, her back to the windows that are letting the sunlight shine a spotlight on the bed. I shift slightly, starting to push myself into a seated position and look around for my bra. I'm not really sure what the protocol is here, as I've never been in the "your straight boss who might actually be bi or a lesbian asked you to fuck her and now it's the morning after" situation before.

"I can hear you thinking. Go back to sleep," her tired voice groans. I hadn't realized she was awake. "It's early," she continues, rolling onto her back. The duvet cover falls down slightly, and I get a glimpse of her that confirms last night really did happen. I subconsciously bite my lip as my eyes glance down at her exposed breast. When I look back at her face, she's smirking knowingly and stretches her arms above her head, faking a yawn as the comforter falls further down her body. "You don't have to run off, you know. I mean, you can if you want, but you don't have to," she says. "I don't mind if you stay a little longer."

"You don't regret it?" I ask her as I fasten the bra hook behind my back.

"Do I look like I regret it?" She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "The only thing I regret is that you are getting dressed." She reaches over for my hand and pulls me back down, turning onto her side to drape an arm around my stomach.

"I never took Regina Mills to be the cuddling type," I joke as I let her throw her leg over mine to snuggle closer, and I can't help but notice that she is still very much naked under the duvet.

She places a soft kiss against my shoulder and then my neck. "There's a lot of things you don't know about Regina Mills," she says. "Hell, until this weekend there was a lot I didn't know about Regina Mills."

Her eyes are closed, but I can see the wheels turning in her head. "I see. And has Regina Mills learned anything about herself?"

"Yes…she would really like to stop being talked about in the third person. It's creepy," she laughs into my neck where her head is nestled under my chin. "And I definitely enjoyed last night, much more than I had ever expected."

I can't help but blush and smile. "I'm glad I could be of service."

"You were more than just that, Emma. Thank you. I mean it," she says, looking up at me. "I know I could have gone to a bar and found a random woman to sleep with, but I'm glad I didn't. I'm glad it was you."

"Me, too," I admit honestly. I still think it was probably a really bad idea, but I don't regret it. At least not yet. "You're hot," I say, breaking the tension of the seriousness of the moment. "It's not like it was a chore on my part." It works, and I feel her chest move against mine as she chuckles.

"Glad to hear it," she replies. "And you're not so bad yourself."

"But…" I start, and I feel her grip on my waist tighten.

"No 'buts'," she interrupts. "Let's just leave it at that."

"The 'but' wasn't going to be a bad thing, Regina," I clarify. "I was just going to say that I've enjoyed getting to see the real you this weekend — the real Regina, not my former boss Regina — and I don't want this to ruin that. I like the real Regina, and I don't want things to be weird between us."

"The only thing that's weird is how you're using my name in the third person again," she points out.

"Sorry," I laugh.

"And it doesn't have to be weird. Once we leave this bed we can go back to being friends, or acquaintances or whatever, and we can pretend last night never happened," she offers.

"Okay," I sigh as I close my eyes. It is still early, so getting another hour or two of sleep would be nice, especially when there's a gorgeous woman wrapped around me.

"Although…" Regina says, causing me to open one eye to look at her. "Technically, we haven't left the bed. So, we don't have to start pretending just yet."

Before I can register her words, she moves her leg to fully straddle my hips, an action which lets me fully feel her intentions. She sits up, letting the duvet fall completely off of her as she tilts her head in question and arches that damn eyebrow again, waiting for my permission. I move my hands to her back, sliding them down the curve of her hips and pulling her closer to me. "I like the way you think."

* * *

 **A/N:** There will be 1-2 more chapters/maybe an epilogue, so we're getting close. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted (I haven't started writing it yet, even though I know what will happen), so it may be a while. But, it won't be as long of a wait as this chapter was...it should be within the next 2 weeks.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** I've had several guest reviews the past few days asking for an update, so here you go! We're rapidly approaching the end...just one chapter to go after this. Thank you so much for joining me on this journey!

(And happy OUAT day!)

* * *

"Are you sure you can't stay another day?" I ask and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. This is why I didn't want to cross that line in our relationship, because I'm already becoming _that_ girl — the one that I hate. The clingy one who rushes to put a label on things and can't just let bygones be bygones. I hate that girl, and I hate myself for it. This was sex and nothing more. I knew that going into it, and I know that now. Just sex. And when Regina temporarily pauses her task to look over her shoulder at me, a question of her own in her eyes, I feign nonchalance, casually sipping the cup of coffee Regina made for me a few minutes earlier.

She answers anyway. "I wish I could, but you know I can't. I have a work meeting tomorrow that I can't get out of, and I need to settle back into my routine at home. I've only been in my new apartment a few weeks, so I'm still getting used to things," she says, turning her attention back to packing up her laptop and books that she had brought with her.

"A few weeks? I though you said you and Robin separated months ago?"

"We did," she confirms. "I stayed at a friend's place for the first month. She's a teacher and has the summers off, but her family has money, and lots of it, so she spends every summer in Europe. She let me housesit until she got back, and then I stayed with her a little longer until I found my place."

"Oh. So, where are you now?"

"Lincoln Park. I'm renting a small two-bedroom while I scope out the real estate market and find a more permanent place to buy, hopefully in Lincoln Park or Old Town. Robin is still in our old place in the Gold Coast — it's been in his family for generations, so he's the one who got to stay," she says in annoyance. "So, I want to be close enough that the boys can take the bus or a cab between our homes by themselves, but not so close that I'll run into him at the market."

"That makes sense. And Lincoln Park is great. I love it there."

"Me, too," she sighs wistfully. "So, what about you? When do you think you'll be back in Chicago? Are you definitely taking the Nolans up on their offer to stay an extra month rent-free?"

"Yeah…I already told Mary-Margaret I would. It will be nice to really be able to finish a draft of my book so I can send it off to some agencies. Beyond that, though, I don't know. Realistically, without a job, I can't afford to live in the city…well, not anywhere that I would want to live in the city, if I'm being honest."

"Right," she says, fidgeting with the coffee mug she's picked up, and I know she's thinking about how she fired me and put me in this position.

"Please don't apologize again," I say, knowing that she's about to. "Honestly, I'm kind of glad you fired me."

"Really?" she asks incredulously.

"Yeah…I mean, last night _never_ would have happened if you hadn't," I grin.

"That is true…I'm not like Fiona, sleeping with every junior staffer I can get my hands on."

"No, I imagine you're not at all like her."

"Can I make a confession, though?" Regina asks me with a smirk.

I'm not sure where this is going, so I merely shrug. "Um, sure?"

"If I'm being totally honest with myself, I think I always did have a bit of a work crush on you."

I nearly do a spit take with my coffee. "What? Seriously?" When she nods her head, I continue. "I thought this weekend was the first time you ever felt anything toward another woman?"

"It was. I just chalked it up to a girl crush, which is probably all it was at the time. And you can't blame me, with your tight skinny black denim that you wore hoping no one would notice that you were wearing jeans and not actual slacks. I never said anything because I really didn't mind. And every time I saw Killian staring at you, I felt the desire to punch him in the face. I never understood why until now."

I chuckle a bit at that. "I always wanted to punch him in the face, too, if it makes you feel any better. And I absolutely had a crush on you — an actual one, not just a work crush. But, you clearly already knew that," I say, thinking back to the comments she's made throughout the weekend. Apparently I wasn't so great at hiding my stolen glances at her back in my days at Enchanted Education.

"Ha, indeed I did. But, it's nice to hear you finally admit it."

 ***.*.***

"It's nice that Mary-Margaret does this big send-off breakfast," Regina comments as we sit down at one of the picnic tables on the Nolans' property. In true Mary-Margaret fashion, my dear college friend went overboard for the last breakfast of the long Columbus Day weekend. Regina and I both have our plastic plates piled high with pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruit and toast, and Regina has a few pieces of bacon that smell divine. I'm suddenly cursing myself for this whole vegetarian thing. But it's not like it matters, because I'm not really hungry anyway. Instead, I'm stupidly already feeling a loss of her presence, even though she's still sitting across from me. I shouldn't be feeling this way, because it was supposed to be meaningless sex.

"Yeah, she really outdid herself," I say as I force myself to take a bite of my pancake. "I think she's just extra excited that she rented every cabin on the property for the weekend. This is the first time that's ever happened since they opened to visitors in the spring."

"Well, they have quite the operation," she states. She then smiles and says, "I'm really glad I came."

I grin at that. "Me, too."

We continue eating our breakfast and fall into a somewhat awkward silence, not unlike our interactions when Regina first showed up here a few days ago. But this time, the silence is weighted with the events of last night, rather than our work-related issues. We occasionally steal glances at one another, but then immediately pretend that we didn't just catch the other person staring. Mercifully, we're quickly joined by a few other guests that we had mingled with throughout the weekend, along with Mary-Margaret, our benevolent host for our stay.

The presence of the other women at the table help lift the tension, and we are pulled into an easy conversation — what our plans are for after we return from this little retreat and what our favorite activity was during the weekend. Mary-Margaret promptly takes out her small Moleskine notebook, jotting down our answers so she can make use of that knowledge in the future. She then asks if she can take a few pictures for the retreat's social media accounts and website. When we all agree, she calls David over, who has his digital SLR camera at the ready. He snaps a few photographs, both posed and fake candids, and then he goes back to his conversation with some of the guys at another table.

About a half hour later, our plates are empty and most of the families have gone back to their cabins to pick up their luggage so they can get on the road. Regina and I are once again alone at the table, but not for long.

"Regina! Look who I found," I hear David's voice behind me.

"Oh my God," Regina's eyes light up as she stands from her seat and walks around the table.

I turn around to see what all the fuss is about, and there's a tall blonde woman next to David, who quickly engulfs Regina in a hug.

"It's so good to see you, Regina," the woman says.

"You, too! But, I thought you weren't coming up until tonight? I didn't think I would see you at all," Regina says.

"I wasn't, but I was able to move some things around. I didn't want to miss seeing one of my best friends. And David said it'd be fine. I'm staying in their house anyway, so it's not like I need to wait for a cabin to clear out," the newcomer replies.

I'm still sitting awkwardly at the table, watching the reunion of sorts happen in front of me.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Regina quickly says when she looks back at me. "Emma, this is my friend Kathryn. She's also David's cousin. Kathryn, this is Emma. She used to work for me, and she's good friends with Mary-Margaret."

"Oh, that's right," Kathryn smiles. "Emma, it's nice to meet you, formally." Confusion passes across my face, and she quickly clarifies. "I was at their wedding, but I don't think we ever officially met."

"Oh, gotcha," I reply. I had been one of Mary-Margaret's bridesmaids when she and David got married years ago. "It's nice to meet you as well. Regina mentioned that she found this place because of you."

"Yep," Kathryn smiles, looking over David. "I'm always happy to promote family businesses. I'm happy to do my part in pimping out my cousin's cabins to my rich friends," she winks at Regina.

"And I'm very happy to have you do that, Kat," David replies. "I'm going to go find Mary-Margaret and let her know you're here. She's helping the guests check out, but I'm sure she'll want to come say hello as soon as she gets a free moment."

"No rush," Kathryn says to David. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll have plenty of time to catch up." He runs off anyway, leaving Kathryn to turn back toward Regina.

"I'm going to go get another coffee. Would either of you like one?" I ask, feeling the need to give them a few minutes alone.

"I'd love one…black is fine. Thanks, Emma," Kathryn says, while Regina shakes her head.

"I'll be right back," I quietly excuse myself, walking a few feet over to where there's a freshly brewed pot of coffee on a table. I fill up my own cup and then grab one for Kathryn as I head back over to the table where they're now sitting.

"Regina, you look great," I hear Kathryn say as I approach the table. "You're glowing."

"Here you go," I bite my lip as I set the coffee down in front of Kathryn. She and Regina are sitting across from one another, so I temporarily pause as I decide where I should sit. My now-empty plate is still where I left it, so I opt to sit next to Kathryn, pushing my plate to the side to move it out of the way and replacing it with my coffee.

"Thanks," Kathryn says as she takes a sip of her coffee. She looks at me hesitantly and lowers her voice as she turns back to the brunette, but she continues her train of thought despite my presence. "I know it's been a rough few years, and I haven't seen you in almost a year, but you look better than you have in a long time, Regina. Whatever you're doing agrees with you."

"Thank you, Kathryn. I couldn't agree more," Regina smirks and looks over at me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "Thank you for recommending that I _come_ this weekend," she says, emphasizing the word just enough for me to catch it. "It was just what I needed."

 ***.*.***

"Why are you so mopey?" Mary-Margaret asks me later that night as I sip my decaf coffee at her kitchen table. I had added some Kahlua to mine, and I may have been a little too generous with my pour. It's a bit overpowering. "I would think you'd be excited to get back to your work. I know having all the extra guests here this weekend distracted you from writing."

"I don't think it was all the guests…more like just one guest," David loudly whispers as he walks by us, grabbing a few beers from the fridge. I send him a glare, but he just winks back at me. He briefly stops to give his wife a kiss on her cheek on his way back to the living room, where he and Kathryn are watching a movie and playing with Neal.

Mary-Margaret raises an eyebrow at me when we're alone again. "Is there something I don't know?"

"How much time do you have?" I ask rhetorically, staring down at my coffee mug.

"As much as it takes," she says, smiling as she settles deeper into her chair. "Do tell."

So, I do. I tell her everything, starting from that conversation the first night at the bonfire when Regina apologized for firing me and told me about her split with Robin, to the kiss on the cheek when I walked her to her cabin afterward, to winning the paddleboat races and stealing the keys to David's yacht. I tell her about Regina throwing her wedding ring into the lake, and then the tantalizing brunette kissing me in the chilly night air, and the awkwardness and hangover that followed. As I reveal the details of the past two days, I find myself having a hard time believing that all of this happened in under 48 hours. It feels like it's been weeks. I then tell her about Regina's confession over her sudden confusion about her sexuality and about her not-so-casual request that I have sex with her to help her figure it out.

"Oh my God…did you do it?" Mary-Margaret interrupts before I can get much farther in my story.

"It had 'BAD IDEA' written all over it. We settled on watching a movie, and Regina promised she wouldn't ask me again and we could forget about it," I explain.

"Oh." She almost sounds disappointed. "That was probably smart."

"Well, that was the plan. And then one thing led to another…"

"OH MY GOD!"

"KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE!" we hear David yell from the other room. "Some of us are trying to watch a movie."

"Sorry!" Mary-Margaret and I both call out.

She then turns back to me. "You slept with Regina?!"

"Yeah," I reply sheepishly.

"Well, how was it?"

I shrug. "It was fine."

"Fine?"

"I mean, it was a lot better than I expected, considering she hadn't ever been with a woman before. Like, _a lot_ better than I thought it would be. And it just got better the more times we did it," I smirk.

"Damn," she smiles as she leans back in her chair, taking a sip of her own spiked coffee. "So, how did you leave it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to see each other again when you get back to Chicago?"

"Oh, I don't know. We didn't really make plans. I just told her to have a safe drive back to the city, and then she drove away."

"Wait, what? That's it? You didn't ask for her number? Or tell her to call you?"

"Uh, no?" I squeak out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What is all this squawking about?" Kathryn asks as she comes into the kitchen to grab some snacks. She picks up a bag of Tostitos from the pantry and goes to grab a jar of salsa out of the fridge.

"Emma had amazing sex with Regina, and she just let her go back to Chicago without addressing what happens next."

"Wait," Kathryn says, nearly dropping the salsa on the island. "You had sex with Regina? Wait, Regina has sex with women? Since when?"

"Since last night, apparently," Mary-Margaret answers for me.

I rest my elbows on the table so I can catch my head in my hands as I fall forward. "Thanks, Mary-Margaret. I'm sure Regina will be so happy you just told her best friend that bit of news."

"Time out," Kathryn says, moving to join us at the table and sitting in one of the extra chairs. "I couldn't care less if Regina has sex with penises or vaginas, as long as whoever she's sleeping with is better for her than that douche of an ex-husband of hers."

"KATHRYN!" David's voice carries in from the living room. "Hurry up!"

"You can keep watching without me. I may be awhile," she calls back. She then redirects her focus to me. "Okay, spill."

"Look, Kathryn, you're Regina's friend, and I'm sure you're very nice and great, but I barely know you. It's really not my place to be telling you about what may or may not have happened between Regina and me. You should ask her if you want that info."

"Ugh, you're no fun," she says, scooting back her chair and standing up to leave. "But for what it's worth, if you want her, you should go after her. She's an amazing woman."

"Oh, I know," I nod as Kathryn walks away.

"So….?" Mary-Margaret starts when it's just us again. "Are you going to go after her?"

"Probably not."

"Emma…"

"No, Mary-Margaret. We said it was a meaningless, one-time thing."

"Just because you said that, doesn't mean it has to stay that way. If you feel something more for her—"

"Even if I did, it's a bad idea. She just got out of her marriage…and she had been with him since early on in college, apparently. I don't want to be the rebound girl, because that always sucks. She needs to figure out what she wants, and I need to finish my damn novel. She's back in Chicago, and if I were her, I'd be going on a date with someone new every night to make up for lost time. And I'm moving into your guest bedroom in a few weeks and will be here for at least another month after that, so it's not like I'll even be in the same state as her. We'll see what happens when I finally get back to Chicago, but I'm not even going to entertain the possibility of that idea until then. I have more pressing concerns I need to focus on, like my book," I say, rambling off every possible excuse as to why it will never work.

"Okay," Mary-Margaret says in a tone that I know means she doesn't agree with anything that I'm saying. "If you say so…"

"I do."


	18. Epilogue

**A/N:** Well, here it is! The epilogue. Sorry for the delay in getting this up, but it was supposed to be a short 1000 word wrap up, but it kind of turned into a behemoth of an epilogue, so it took longer than I expected. More of their story just kept coming out (no pun intended). I also had hoped to post this after I started my new fic, but that's not quite ready to post yet and I don't want to keep you waiting.

And special shoutout to guest reviewer Jezz, who left a comment this morning begging me to post the epilogue. Without further ado, here you go :)

Note: Emma's outfit described in here is based on what JMo wore to Tribeca Film Fest in 2012. I admittedly was out of ideas, and that look is still totally stylish. I'd wear it, so why can't Emma?

* * *

 ** _Eight Months Later_**

"I'm so excited for you, Em," Mary-Margaret says to me as I fold the last of my jeans and put them into my suitcase. "I feel like a proud mom."

"You guys are still planning on coming, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. We wouldn't miss this for the world," she reiterates. "Kathryn will be coming up Friday morning to take over for us for the day and watch Neal, and then we'll be on our way."

I sigh, relieved that they'll be there. It's been nearly a year since I first arrived at the Nolans' forest getaway, and in that time Mary-Margaret and I have really rekindled our friendship. We grew apart after college, as most people do when life gets in the way, and so we would only see each other once or twice a year at most. Mainly Facebook kept us updated on what was going on in each other's lives. But after I moved into the main house after my three-month writing retreat in one of their cabins, it was almost like we were back as roommates in the sorority house (aside from the fact that she has a husband and toddler running around this time). I had only intended on staying with them for a month or two after my original retreat ended, but it turns out that I really enjoy helping out with their bed and breakfast camp, and there's always something to do here. Even in the dead of the Wisconsin winter, their business was booming and we got to explore new ways of keeping guests entertained. Visitors traded in paddleboats for ice skating on the frozen pond, and instead of hiking, visitors loved to cross-country ski on the trails. After my half-joking suggestion after too much wine one night during the first snow in early November, the Nolans even ended up adopting a Siberian husky and an Alaskan malamute from a local rescue, both of whom quickly became Instagram-famous on the bed and breakfast's feed. The kids who came to visit loved the pups, particularly when we would rig up the kiddie sleds and snow tubes to the dogs and let them take the young kids out for a mini Iditarod. So, I've continued to stay in their guest bedroom, helping them run their business during the day and working on my writing at night. I haven't even considered moving back to the city. Apparently, the simple life agrees with me, and I plan to stay up here for the foreseeable future.

And, all that writing I've been doing finally turned into something worthwhile; it's no longer a lesson in futility. In late January, after manically revising draft after draft, I took a chance and sent my polished draft to Mal and Ingrid at Fire & Ice Literary Agents, LLC., the agency where I had interned right after I finished my MFA program. I hadn't expected anything to come of it, as my novel didn't fit into the genre of their usual clientele, but I had hoped to get some feedback on my work and maybe a suggestion as to what agencies I should query. To my surprise, they offered to take me on, as they were slowly expanding their client base and hoping to reach new niche markets.

And damn, they are good at their job. Within three weeks, they had a preliminary book deal for me with a relatively new publishing house in Chicago. It's not a six-figure deal or a promise for a spinoff movie franchise, but it's a healthy deal for my first foray into the world of published novelist. After doing a few revisions at the publisher's request and working with an editor, my release date is nearly here. So, I'm packing up my bag for the weekend to head down to Chicago for some final meetings and a celebratory dinner with Mal and Ingrid. Then, on Friday night I will have my official book launch party at a brewery in the city across the street from the publisher, ahead of the official book release on Tuesday.

I'll be staying with Ruby while I'm in town, who I'm excited to see because I haven't had a chance to see her in months. She was able to come up to visit over one short weekend in February, and she and Mary-Margaret hit it off right away. When she stayed with me she told me that Billy from accounting had proposed to her (their casual office hookup quickly became more serious in the time after I was fired, apparently). She had asked me to be her bridesmaid, which I was quick to agree to, and so in September I'll be standing up as she marries the man who caught her eye on her first day at Enchanted Education. And after staying with me at the retreat, she decided to have her wedding on the Nolans' property. Mary-Margaret is thrilled, because it will be their first on-site wedding. She and Ruby have been exchanging Pinterest board posts nearly every day, and at this point if Mary-Margaret shows me one more DIY mason jar candle centerpiece I'm going to scream. But, I'm so excited for Ruby, and for Mary-Margaret. If Ruby's wedding goes well, then this could open up more options for the Nolans' getaway in the forest.

As for Regina, well, I don't know what's going on with her. I haven't spoken to her since she left the morning of Columbus Day all those months ago. When Ruby came to visit, she had told me that shortly after Regina got back to Chicago, she unexpectedly quit her job on the spot after a huge argument with Gold in a meeting with the Enchanted Education leadership team. "It was crazy," Ruby had said. "They were in that glass conference room in the middle of the main floor, and that chick Fiona from the San Francisco office who you met was there, along with a bunch of other people from the West Coast branch that Gold had flown in, plus all the VPs and execs from Chicago. All of a sudden we hear a full-on screaming match between Fiona, Gold, and Regina. The next thing I know Regina is storming out of the room and goes down the hall to her office with Gold, Fiona, and a few others hot on her trail. She starts packing up her shit and tells Gold that she's done and he'll have her official letter of resignation by the end of the day. An hour or two later, she got on the elevator and never came back."

I had been shocked. Regina loved her job — she told me as much during the weekend she came up here. But, I know she and Fiona have a lot of conflicts, but Fiona was in California most of the time and Regina was higher up in the hierarchy, so I can't imagine what went down that would make Regina give it all up like that. Ruby had no idea, either. Whatever happened in that conference room is still under lock and key. "Do you know where she went after she quit?" I had asked Ruby. I know Regina would have plenty of money, between her healthy salary at Enchanted Education and likely alimony from Robin, but I was still concerned. Between going through a divorce and custody battle with her kids, her newfound realization that she's attracted to women, and then quitting her job, that's a lot of change for even a healthy, well-adjusted person to take on at once.

"I'm not sure. Her LinkedIn profile hasn't been updated, and that's the only connection I have to her," Ruby had replied.

At that point, I told Ruby everything that had happened between Regina and me during that weekend. I hadn't said anything to her previously, even though I was dying to, because I wanted to respect Regina's privacy. Even though Ruby is one of my best friends, the last thing I wanted to do was to gossip to one of Regina's coworkers about what she and I did on a long weekend. But now that Regina was no longer working with Ruby, I had been relieved to finally be able to tell her the whole story.

Ruby had been surprised, to say the least. She then told me I should get off my ass and call Regina.

"I can't," I had said. "Stupidly, we never exchanged phone numbers. I only had her office number, and I didn't want to call her at work. Not to mention, it seems like that number would have been useless anyway. If she wanted to talk to me, she would have called me."

 ***.*.***

"You look hot as hell, Emma," Mal whispers in my ear as she offers me another glass of champagne. "And now that you're no longer my intern, I can tell you that without fear of a sexual harassment lawsuit."

"Well, you're still my agent," I tease, graciously accepting the bubbly drink from her and taking a sip. "I keep worrying that I'm going to have a wardrobe malfunction, though," I say, glancing down at my chest to make sure everything is in place and running my fingers across the top of the bustline to slightly adjust it. Ruby had helped me decide what to wear, as social soirees are much more her scene than mine. I had planned on wearing my go-to little black dress, which is what I brought with me from Wisconsin, but Ruby vetoed it. She insisted I needed something new and special, and she dragged me down Michigan Avenue during a short bit of free time the day before to go shopping. It was worth it, though. We found a gorgeous, yet simple jumpsuit, which I'm currently wearing and praying that it stays up. The white strapless bodice is well constructed, but it still makes me nervous since I'm not used to wearing anything like this. The rest of the piece is black, with wide leg pants that fortunately cover my not-quite-stylish shoes (I refused to wear anything too uncomfortable, knowing I'd be on my feet all night) and pockets that let me keep my essentials close by, since my purse is locked in the brewery office for safe keeping.

"Well, you really do look great," Mal reiterates before she excuses herself to go speak with another colleague.

It's a little over an hour into the book launch party that the publishers are throwing me, and things are going well. I managed to make it through my "thank you" speech and read the introductory pages of the book without stumbling over my words, which had been my main concern. Mal and Ingrid had both given very complimentary speeches as well, and then the publisher had spoken about the book and reminded everyone in attendance to recommend the book to their friends and librarians. Now, we are able to eat, drink, and mingle, and I can finally relax a bit.

It's extremely odd being the center of attention, but part of me is really enjoying it. The crowd isn't obscenely large, as there are maybe 50 people or so filling the space, and it's full of bookstore representatives, librarians, and Fire and Ice's other clients — not the most crazy of crowds. It's been fun getting to speak with the individuals who have decided to order my book to sell in their stores and to talk to other authors who have gone through this process already. I've always been on the more introverted side, but I'm going to soak up every moment of this, because I don't know if I'll ever have another opportunity quite like it.

"Champagne at a brewery?" I hear a teasing voice behind me. "That seems a bit odd."

 _Oh my God_ , I think to myself. I turn around slowly, thinking that my ears are just playing tricks on me. But no, there she is. For the first time in eight months, I lay my eyes on the beautiful brunette, who is wearing a stunning burgundy dress that graces her mid-thigh and has a keyhole neckline that reveals a hint of cleavage and shows off her well-defined shoulders. "Regina," I say, completely stunned.

"Hello, dear. This is quite a party," she says casually, as though no time has passed and everything about this encounter is completely ordinary.

Before I have a chance to respond, Ingrid swoops in and whisks me away, muttering something about needing me for the book signing portion of the evening. I take my spot at a table against the far wall of the brewery, and a line starts to form as guests pick up their complimentary copy of my debut novel to bring it over to me to sign. I try my best to stay focused and present, making polite but genuine conversation with each person I speak to. But in reality, my mind goes back to Regina, who I've now lost in the crowd. _What is she even doing here? How is she here? This was an invite-only event, and God knows I didn't send her an invitation. I couldn't even if I wanted to, because I don't even know how to contact her_.

As I sign more and more books, including copies for Ruby, Mary-Margaret, and David, I begin to think that maybe I imagined seeing her. After all, champagne always goes to my head quickly, this is a crazy night, and I was standing by myself and letting my mind wander. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, because I haven't caught another glimpse of her, and my eyes are looking everywhere for the beauty in the burgundy dress.

The line begins to wind down 45 minutes later, and just a few folks remain in the queue to have their books signed. The party has started to clear out a bit, with only the Fire and Ice staff, a few clients, and a few of their friends remaining. I see Ruby, Mary-Margaret, and David chatting quietly amongst themselves at the bar in the corner of the taproom, occasionally glancing over at me and sending me a smile when they catch my eye. My attention is drawn back to the task at hand when I hear someone place a book down on the table in front of me. I flip open the cover to the title page and start to ask my typical, "Who should I make this out to?" as I look up to face them, but the last few words get caught in my throat when I see her. _I guess I didn't imagine her, then._

"Regina, dear," she smirks down at me, answering the completely unnecessary question I had started to ask. "Or did you forget about me already?"

I shake my head as I lean forward to scrawl my name and a brief message across the page, closing the book and handing it back to her. "Are you going to stick around for a bit?" I ask as I pass it back, finally finding my words.

"I suppose I can," she says, thanking me for signing her copy and moving out of the way so the next person in line can take her place.

I quickly get through the rest, thanking everyone for coming to the launch, and then go join Mary-Margaret and Ruby in the corner of the room. "Look who's here," Ruby grins as she nods to Regina, who has joined them.

"Yeah, I see that," I reply, smiling awkwardly at Regina. "Where's David?" I ask Mary-Margaret, noting the man's absence.

"He went to go get the car. We had to park in a garage a few blocks away. It's getting late, so we need to head back home. It's still about a 90 minute drive from here, and I don't want to leave Kathryn with a toddler and manning the business all night."

"Thank you so much for coming, Mary-Margaret. It means the world to me that you're here."

"We wouldn't miss it. We'll see you back home in a few days, right?"

"Yes," I nod. I'm planning to stay in the city through Tuesday evening, so I can do a few book signings and readings at stores throughout Chicago up through my book's release date. Then I'll be heading back to the Nolans' house to do some local events there. My book isn't really something that would appeal to small-town folks, but there are a few independent bookstores who were eager to support a local author. Then, I imagine it will go back to life as usual for me, helping out Mary-Margaret with the guests.

"Great. I'll send David in to come say goodbye before we head out. See you in a few days."

"Get home safely. Text me when you get back so I know you guys got there okay."

"Of course, Em," Mary-Margaret smiles. "And you say I mother you too much."

I roll my eyes as she gives me a hug and walks out the door, leaving me alone with Ruby and Regina. The awkwardness is quickly broken when David pops his head in to say goodbye, before he, too, leaves just as quickly as he came.

"Well, congratulations again, Emma. It's been a great night. But, do you mind if I take off a little early? Billy should be getting done at his friend's concert right about now, and I promised him I'd meet him for a drink before I head home. Are you okay getting back to my place by yourself?"

"Of course. I did live here for several years. I know how to navigate the city," I say, kissing her cheek as she leans in to hug me.

"I won't wait up for you," she whispers in my ear, winking at me as she turns to leave.

As Ruby departs, Regina smiles at me shyly, a stark contrast to the seductive and confident smirks she's been sending me all night. "Do you want to get a drink and catch up?" she finally asks.

"Sure," I say. "It looks like they're closing up here, though," I reply. The room has all but completely cleared out, and Mal and her associates are packing up the leftover promotional materials they brought, while the brewery staff begins wiping down the tables.

"There's a hotel just up the street that has a quiet piano bar. Want to head over there?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Just let me go grab my things out of the office, and I'll meet you back here," I reply. She nods and I quickly head to the private office in the back of the brewery, my heart beating loudly in my chest as my brain tries to reconcile everything that has happened. Between the excitement of the party and seeing Regina again, I think I might actually pass out.

I stop by to thank Ingrid and Mal on my way back to where Regina is waiting at the front door, draping my red leather jacket around my shoulders to help keep out the mild chill of the June evening. Regina opens the door and gestures for me to go through first, and then we silently walk the city block in silence until we arrive at the hotel. This time I open the door for her and she walks in, heading straight to the intimate, dimly lit lounge off the lobby. A man in his mid-60s is playing piano quietly — a jazz piece I vaguely recognize but cannot name — and there are a handful of patrons watching him at small hightop tables. We take a seat in the far corner, away from the other guests so we can better hear one another over the soothing sound of the piano.

"I never knew this place was here," I say as I look around. "It's nice. Is it new?"

Regina shakes her head. "Not really. It's been here a few years. But there's so much to do in the area that this is often overlooked by anyone who isn't staying at the hotel."

"How'd you find out about it?"

"I live up the street, actually," she explains. "I discovered it one night when a friend was in town and staying here. I've been coming here ever since."

"Hi, Regina. Your usual?" a server asks as he comes over and places two waters on the table.

"Yes, please. Thank you, Graham," she replies. "Graham, this is my friend Emma. She's in town for a few days. Emma, this is Graham."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma," he says in his thick Irish accent. "Are you ladies here for anything special or just a nice night out?"

"Actually, we just came from a launch party for Emma's first novel that's coming out on Tuesday," Regina explains.

"Oh, well congratulations, Emma," he says sweetly. "In that case, your first round is on the house."

"Wow, thank you," I reply.

"What can I get for you, Emma?" he asks.

"A whiskey sour?" Regina asks me for confirmation before I can answer. I nod my head in agreement and Graham turns to head back to the bar.

"You remembered?" I ask. That was the drink I ordered during the conference in San Diego the night Regina told me she suspected Robin was having an affair, right before she got ridiculously drunk and accused me of overstepping.

"I did," she smiles.

"So, how have you been?" I ask lamely.

She chuckles at that. "Good," she starts. "I assume Ruby told you about my very public resignation from Enchanted Education?"

"She did," I confirm. This isn't the topic I expected she would bring up, but I'll go with it for now. "Though she said she doesn't know why you quit."

Regina sighs. "It's a long story. But basically…remember that bitch Fiona from the San Francisco office?"

I nod. "Of course. How could I forget?"

"Right," Regina nods. "Well, Gold gave her a job in Chicago. Actually, he gave her the job I had been hoping I would get."

"What? How? I thought you were above her?"

"I was. There were rumors right around the time that you were fired that he was going to be creating a Vice President of Marketing and Sales position, which all the VPs of the individual sales departments would report to. Naturally, we all assumed it would go to one of the existing VPs. And then the rumors died down and nothing more was said about it, so we forgot about it. Then at that meeting with several of the California office folks, he announced that Fiona was the new VP. They never even posted the job anywhere or gave anyone else the opportunity to apply or interview for it. He just created it and ushered her into it, announcing that she was going to be our new boss and that she'd be relocating to the Chicago office. By that point, I was furious and was already fed up with the way things had been running as of late, so I told them both to fuck off and I left. It wasn't my finest or most professional moment, but God it felt good to say."

"Wow," I say, feeling my eyes widen in surprise. "So, what did you do after that?"

"I called Daniel…you remember Ruby's boss?" she asks. I nod my head _yes_ and she continues. "Well, he went out on paternity leave right before Columbus Day weekend. His wife just had a baby and he wanted to spend time with her and his new son. He had a lot of personal time saved up, knowing that he would want to take more than the one or two weeks the company gives new fathers," she explains. "Well, it turns out that he had been frustrated with a lot of things, too. He hated firing Tiana as much as I hated firing you. We both thought it was ridiculous that the girls on Arthur's team flirted their way to meet their sales quotas and otherwise sucked at their jobs, while you and Tiana actually did yours properly. He told me that he likely wasn't going to return from paternity leave, and instead he was going to use that time to seriously look into opening his own business. He had been thinking about it for a while and had drawn up a preliminary business plan, but he wanted to take that time to really iron it out. About two days before all of this went down with Gold and Fiona, he told me the bank had given him a small business loan, and he was going to start it. He told me there'd be a spot for me if I wanted it."

"Seriously?" I ask, nodding briefly at Graham in thanks as he brings over our drinks.

She does the same, pausing to take a sip of her drink before continuing. "Yes. He and I have always worked together well and have commiserated through all the bullshit at Enchanted, so I figured I may as well take him up on that. So, I've spent the last six months working with him to officially get our new business off the ground."

"What are you guys doing?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"It's a small boutique marketing agency," she explains. "His first love has always been graphic design, and as VP of the K-12 sales division at Enchanted, he actually did very little hands-on design and marketing work. He missed it. So this way, he gets to go back to his passion, but also use the skills he's gained to run the business. My background is in marketing and sales, so I help him with marketing our business, rather than designing marketing projects for our clients, which is his baby for the moment. We're still in the soft launch phase and are mainly building a few substantial projects to help make a name for ourselves and have a portfolio to show potential new clients. So far, we've designed a few book covers for some of Fire & Ice's clients. Mal and Ingrid connected me with some of the smaller publishing houses that don't necessarily have in-house designers, so those are our first few ventures into this world."

"Oh," I nod in understanding. "That explains why you were there tonight, then, and how you know Mal and Ingrid."

"Well, sort of."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, actually," she starts, and I can tell she's suddenly anxious. "Mal and I were involved for a bit," she says, biting on the straw of her gin and tonic.

"Oh," I say. "That's, uh…unexpected."

"Yeah," she sighs.

"Well, I guess that's one way to address the elephant in the room."

She raises a brow at me and I smile.

"My next question was going to be about how you're doing personally, you know, with everything," I clarify.

"Right," she nods. "Yeah. When I got back, I couldn't stop thinking about that night," she blushes, and I'm pretty sure I do, too. "I decided to give the whole dating women thing a try, because honestly, that felt more right to me than trying to date men. Mal and I met one night at a mixer that Daniel suggested I attend — some happy hour thing for people in the publishing industry — and I met Mal there. I knew of her, of course, because of her agency's reputation, and I knew that you had interned there. We hit it off and started dating."

"But it didn't work out?" I ask, hoping that I don't sound too hopeful. I know the answer is 'no,' because she had said they _were_ involved for a bit, not _are_ involved, but I can't help wanting to know what happened.

"No, it didn't. It was fine, and it was fun for the four months it lasted. We split amicably after that because we wanted different things. I realized that I'm happier being in a committed relationship, even though I just got out of a boring, unfulfilling marriage. And while I don't expect a huge commitment after only four months, I at least want to know that it could turn into that someday. I just want the potential to be there. But, Mal has no intention of settling down anytime soon, if ever. So, when we realized that we weren't going to be compatible, we figured we may as well end it while we were still in a good place and could remain friends, you know?"

I shrug. "Makes sense."

"Mal is actually the one who invited me tonight…it had nothing to do with my new business with Daniel, but she knows about our history and thought I might want to be there."

"Oh…you told her?"

"I did. I wanted to be honest with her about my lack of experience, and I knew she knew you and would likely figure it out anyway even if I didn't name names…" she says, pausing for a moment before she continues speaking. "I'm so happy for you, Emma," she says, reaching across the table to lightly place her hand on mine.

"Thanks. I'm glad you were there tonight."

"Me, too," she says, squeezing my hand gently before releasing it. "So, I have to ask — you told me you were writing a dark retelling of Snow White. This…" she says, raising an eyebrow at me and pulling her signed copy of the book out of her bag, "does not seem to be that."

I chuckle as I look at the cover of my novel, featuring a silhouette of the legs of two hand-drawn women relaxing on the beach under a rainbow striped umbrella. "No, it definitely isn't," I answer.

"Well?"

"After you left, I worked a bit more on the Snow White story, and I nearly completed it. But, I lost my inspiration for it a bit, so I set it aside when I had the idea for that story," I say, gesturing toward the book.

"I have to say, hearing you read the introductory pages tonight and reading the synopsis on the dust jacket…it sounds a bit familiar," she accuses with a smile.

I laugh again. "It may have been inspired by recent events," I confess.

In actuality, it very much was. It's a story quite similar to our own: a young woman quits her job at an advertising agency in New York City. Everyone thinks her boss is a raging bitch, but really she's going through a divorce and doesn't want anyone to know. Instead, she takes out her anger and frustration on her staff, and ultimately the girl can't take it anymore and quits. A few months later, the two women run into each other on vacation at a resort in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, where they end up having a whirlwind affair until they go their separate ways. The book ends with an indefinite conclusion, leaving the reader to decide if they end up getting together when they return back to their respective homes in New York.

"Obviously, I took a lot of liberties and there's a lot of hyperbole for dramatic effect," I add. "But, the story isn't entirely born from my imagination."

She narrows her eyes at me, almost looking like she's trying to be intimidating, but I can tell she's biting back a smile.

So, I continue. "But, to be fair, I did give you a shout out, so you can take a little credit for it."

"What?" she asks, picking up the book and turning it over, as if she expects me to have outed her on the back cover.

"Relax, Regina," I say as I reach for the book. "May I?"

She nods as I open the book to the dedication page at the front. In addition to my regular signature on the title page, I had stealthily drawn a smiley face and a heart on the dedication page when she wasn't looking during the book signing. I then pointed to the page, which lists three short dedications: one to my late parents, one to Mary-Margaret and David for letting me stay with them while I worked on the book, and then finally, one last note. It simply reads: _'For R.M: Enjoy the journey. I hope you find your answers, happiness, and maybe yourself along the way. Xo.'_

Regina smiles genuinely as she looks up at me, her eyes becoming slightly watery as she reaches for my hand once more: "I think maybe I have."

THE END

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, just as Emma's says that her book leaves the conclusion up to the reader, so does this one. Unlike my others, this fic will not have a sequel, as I like leaving it open to interpretation :) And, I feel like I'm leaving them in a good place and don't want to mess with them anymore. They've been fun to write, but I think I should leave them alone to live their lives. I have my headcanon about what comes next for them, but I'm curious what you all think. I'd love to hear your predictions/interpretations as to what happens next for them, so feel free to leave a review with your own headcanon.

Thank you so, so much for joining me on this story. I had no idea what to expect, and when I first posted it I was afraid no one was going to read it (especially since the description even mentions that Regina was in a real relationship with Robin to start), but as I posted each chapter, more and more folks joined in, and it's turned into one of my most followed/reviewed fics. I can't thank you enough for sticking with it and reading along with me. (And I'm super thankful for the encouragement and gentle nudges to update! Those always made me smile, and maybe feel a little guilty, but mostly made me really happy).

I'm planning to begin a new modern-day AU fic shortly, so if you're not already, I'd love it if you'd follow me so you know when it's up :) Or, just check my profile over the next week to see if it goes live. It will most likely be called "Just What I Needed" (like the song by The Cars). I have a major PhD proposal due this week, so if I can get that done in time to work on the story, hopefully the first chapter of the new fic will be up by this weekend. I'm also still working on a magical realism fic, but that's taking a little longer. Hopefully that will be up within the next few weeks, too.

Thanks again for reading!


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